Dec
12
December 12, 2006
Every time I read another news article on James Kim I feel myself blinking back tears. Somebody posted a graphic detailing Kim’s journey through that harsh terrain, and seeing the trail leading back towards his family’s car about breaks my damn heart. I wish like hell we could all spin the earth backwards like Superman, and fly to him, a deus ex machina to pluck his still-living body from the cold ground, and return him to safety and warmth and his family’s arms.
I know this world’s got a million sad stories, but this one just won’t leave my head. I hope for peace and healing for the Kim family.
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Boy, I don’t even know how to segue from such a sad topic without sounding like an insensitive asshole, so let’s just…move on, together, to the incredibly shallow topic of concealer. Specifically, I need your advice on a good cover-up for my spectacularly unsexy dark eye circles, because you guys know EVERYTHING. Leave me a comment, or shoot me an email, and help me not spend so much time getting up close and personal with Photoshop’s Dodge tool.
And hey, as long as I’m soliciting advice, I need a good book. I keep picking things up from the library that aren’t very enjoyable, and then I feel resentful about spending my practically nonexistent free time on something that is teh suck, so YO, kick down with the suggestions. What’s the last great thing you read?
Work is incredi-busy lately, what with Macworld and a new product release and Workplace’s upcoming semi-closure for several days in a row over the holidays (would you believe I actually argued against that decision? I really am an asshole). I’m pleased to report, though, that I had time this week to write a very stupid blog post that included a photo of one of our employees in a monkey mask, so the next time I have a mini career crisis and wonder if I’m Really Being All That I Can Be, I will remind myself: monkey mask.
I’ve been posting photos of the various Christmas accouterments scattered around the house, and for those of you with really good memories, here’s an old friend: Porny McSquirrelton, He-Who-Wields-Anal-Beads. Speaking of anal, my ass is going to get really fat if I keep doing this.
In other news, this video is oddly wonderful. Rescue many horses, yes indeed! (Thanks, Jilly.)
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?
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