Dec
10
December 10, 2006
I’m sitting at my computer right now watching a page of holiday-themed mailing labels slowly disgorge from the printer’s stuttering maw, and I’m thinking, since when did I become the type of person who uses holiday-themed labels on their cards? I even agonized over the freaking typeface on these things (Edwardian script for the family name, Copperplate for the address. If you were wondering. Which I am sure you were NOT), and I probably need an intervention because surely this is a sign of Christmas Insanity and the next thing you’ll know I’ll be buying those plastic containers of candied fruits in order to bake my very own fruitcake.
(I like fruitcake, by the way. I realize I’m in the minority here, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to deal with a cherry that requires fifteen solid minutes of vigorous chewing, but what can I say, I find something strangely comforting about a fruitcake’s Plutonian density.)
Every year I sort of enjoy the process of putting together holiday cards up to a point, and then I feel resentful that I’m addressing card after card for members of JB’s family I barely know, while my own family requires pretty much only two stamps in total.
“Here,” I eventually snarl, “You write something.”
JB: “Well I don’t know what to write.”
Me: “How about Merry Fucking Christmas? Jesus.”
Happy goddamn golden days of yore, that’s our household.
We got our tree this weekend, out at the same tree farm in Issaquah we went to last year. Last year it was all snow-covered and wintery and picturesque, this year it was just kind of muddy. JB manfully sawed it down while I annoyed him by yelling “TIMBERRRRR”. I pondered a follow-up informative shout such as “FORE!” or “GOALLL!” or “LET’S GET READY TO RUMMMMBBLE!” but I wasn’t sure what was most seasonally-appropriate.
So far Riley hasn’t been too interested in the tree, although he was greatly intrigued by his father assembling the tree stand in the backyard. We hung the lights and ornaments and I am quite pleased by the tree’s presence. Every December I feel as though the Christmas tree adds so much character and festivity to the household I don’t understand why we don’t keep trees inside year-round, just switching up the decor by season. Spring trees with dangling ceramic bunnies and Peeps-on-a-string! Summer trees with ornaments shaped like watermelon slices and beach balls! Fall trees with real leaves and tiny pumpkins!
Except I guess no one wants to deal with pine needles twelve months out of the year. I tracked some into bed last night and I have pitch in my hair.
JB and I also managed to get out on our own for a bit on Friday night because daycare was hosting a “Parent’s Night”. We ate a leisurely, fattening dinner at the Yarrow Bay Grill, and do you know who had to do the dishes afterwards? NOT ME THAT’S WHO. Huzzah!
Today I plan to finish up a freelance article, wrap a present or two, and maybe buy some holiday-themed stamps for our cards (what? I’ve already got the labels…). JB and I have a couple of movies to watch, and Riley will probably spend a good part of the evening engrossed in his favorite new activity: spinning in circles, laughing hysterically, then falling flat on his face.
Pictures!
Okay, your turn. What did you do this weekend?
Dec
7
December 7, 2006
I am really and truly looking forward to January 13, because on that day Macworld will be over and done with, Christmas will be in the rearview mirror (not that I do not love Christmas with every square inch of my godless heathen heart, but it sure is a busy-ass time of year) (P.S. the awesome thing about agnosticism is that you can totally embrace random holiday traditions, assign your own meaning to them, and be unconcerned with defining the True Meaning of [Insert Holiday Here]. The world’s rituals are your buffet table! Especially if they involve chocolate, which come to think of it, all of our major US commercially-recognized holidays do. Is there a chocolate conspiracy, a secret society of confectioners throughout history? Somebody get a cryptex! Preferably one filled with a creamy nougat center!), and I can maybe take a day or two to chill the hell out.
JB is crazy-busy at work right now too, so we are both headachy and humpbacked from staring at computer screens all day long. We took a break late last night to make a batch of caramel brownies (chocolate again? View this entry under a black light and the truth will be revealed*) and I think the relief from not thinking about deadlines for a few minutes made us giddy, because we were giggling like a couple of stoned high school kids in the kitchen and periodically SHH’ing each other so as to not wake up the boy.
Me (watching JB laboriously pushing a spoon around in the batter): “You are stirring that like a monkey.”
JB: “Is that a compliment?”
Me: “Well, not really.”
JB: “Because monkeys are extremely agile.”
Me: “Agile? HahahahaaHAR!”
JB: “SHHHHH.”
Later, contemplating the brownie pan and imitating the coach from Friday Night Lights:
Me: “We’ve got a war to win! Let’s go in thar and show’m what we’re made of!”
JB: “Clear eyes full heart can’t lose, sir!”
Me: “Also, you may not give it to my daughter doggy style, missionary style, or any other style unless I give you the say-so, son.”
JB: “Ha!”
Me: “SHHHH.”
* Note: this blog contains no actual revelations, but was manufactured in a shared equipment facility and may contain incidental trace elements of peanuts, soybeans, wheat, or milk.
Each day I’ve driven my New! Car! to work this week, the traffic has been particularly obnoxious, which on the one hand, at least I have a comfy environment in which to sit for hours on end while Montlake, 520, and 148th collectively shit the bed, but on the other, I am itching to put the pedal to the metal because oh my god this car has some get-up-and-fucking-GO to it. I should be on the freaking Autobahn with this thing, not mired on the 520 bridge watching a sea of red lights while I sadly play the perfect Drive Like Hell music (“Buzzbomb”, Dead Kennedys; I also recommend AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck”).
Here’s something interesting about the Touareg: if you have the key with you – say, in your pocket or something – the car automatically senses the proximity of the key, and the proximity of your hand as you reach for the handle, and unlocks the door just as you grab the handle. Is that the freakiest thing ever, or what? I’m driving KITT.
Okay, time to wrap things up. I leave you with…
Three awesome links:
• Lincoln’s unusual new website. I love that you can click “Add this dream” like you’re putting a life ambition in a shopping cart.
• This right here is the best comments section I have ever seen on any blog, ever. Long live the long horse.
• Live hamster video game!
And four photos of the boy:
Still cute. Which at least partially makes up for all the yelling, I guess.
Riley scribbled with crayons for the first time yesterday. I predict he’s going to be a lefty, which is awesome, because everyone knows lefties are superior in every way. (What?)
Lately he is obsessed with dragging around my Bandolinos. He’s like Jack the Giant Killer, wielding his seven-league boots.
Also, oh my god this kid is totally going to be on Jackass someday.
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