Twitter and Pitch, The Story That Needs a Better Title: Part One

One winter a little bluebird left its nest, just a few months too late. The nest was warm, built with her mama's fluff, and Twitter couldn't bring herself to bring herself to leave. But one winter brought a snowflake that caught her eye and coaxed he from beneath her mothers wing.

Into the sunlight Twitter flew after a sparkle of the unique star like shape, hoping to see what nest it came from. As she spread her feathers toward the sky she looked right into the sun. And then she followed the snowflake.

Straight down.

And then in a zigzag.

And then in a figure eight.

Twitter looked around her, midflight, and saw that the snowflake she had been following had multiplied. Suddenly there were thousands and thousands of snowflakes all around. Snowflakes were all she could see. She couldn't see her nest anymore. Twitter was lost.

The little bluebird knew she had to stop for the night. The sky was darkening but there was no end to the storm in sight. She flew until she found what seemed like shelter and hunkered down, waiting for the blizzard to end.

When Twitter woke in the morning, a mound of soft white snow had drifted into her shelter. She shivered and blinked in the sunshine. She fluttered her wings and looked at her surroundings.

Twitter found herself in a wooden shelter, pointed at the roof and covered in wool at the wooden floor. In front of her was a giant mound of whispy brown hay.

As the chill blew in Twitter began to burrow under the haystack. It was soft and warm, and gently heaved with the draft. She nosed deeper into the silky dark brown grass, marveling how comfortable it was. She could almost fall asleep again. She fluttered and sighed. Then the haystack sneezed.

Twitter jumped and lifted her head slowly. As she unburrowed from the haystack her eyes met with two black glassy pools that eerily like...another set of eyes!!

Shaking she backed up slowly, rying to find the way out without taking her eyes off the eyes. They backed away too and as they did they revealed a big black nose. The nose sniffed Twitter furiously, and then it barked a loud ferocious bark.

Twitter broke frantically into flight, but there was no to go. She was in a dog house! With a big, huge dog!

The little bluebird flew wildy from ceiling to floor, from wall to wall, heart racing in her little blue chest. The big huge dog barked. Finally Twitter found the way out and flew into the sunlight. She left the dog behind her, digging himself out of the snow that was blocking his door.

Frightened, she circled, eyeing the white washed trees and bushes carefully to see if she could see home. But everything looked the same!

Twitter flew in circles higher and higher, until the dog (finally making its way out of his house) became just a speck and the roofs of the peoples homes and the tree tops looked the same. As she rose she began to cry. She was so far from home! And scared! The ground below came a swirl of white. Twitter plummetted back towards the earth.

Squeeze In the Fun!

A photo tour. Bear with me babes. I'm still working on the settings with this new camera.

It began with an HD tour of Scene It! Junior. Where the girls lost. (Boo! Hiss!)

Then the dinosaur was snagged in a hunters net.

I looked at it through the binoculars.


And then my niece took this picture, which was better than any I have taken so far.

Then we went to the ZOO!


It was as fantastic as I could have possibly imagined. The animals were in high form. We saw baby animals, giant scary turtle faces and orangutans that swung on ropes and kissed their noses with a finger. I got a great video of it but I don't know how to upload it. Not even as a picture.

After the batteries on the camera died and the Zebra's chased the Antelope into the cave, an old friend from the days of Art School - er "college" - picked me up and took me to a little Philla cafe' where we dined on Mussels and Duck and Flakey fish.



It'd been five years since we'd seen each other, but I found that we were just still like salt and peppa.

(Photo creds to S.S., old "college friend"). Interesting how your first impression of someone can stick, even after all that time and thousands of miles.

One more day of vacation and I go back to my cats, their mess and hopefully a fine part time job fixin retail shop windows to look real pretty like.

Tomorrow we work on at home crafty things, laundry and finishing up the story about the little bird, Twitter. Here's one of the first drawings:

Funny

It's much easier to write prolifically when you are trapped for eight hours at a desk and doing everything humanly possible to avoid work. Huh. How 'bout that.

Being on vacation, distracted by kids and wine and games and Entourage and wine and babies and rum and family...sure makes it hard to hold onto any of my creative thoughts. I could kid myself and say I am allowed a mental vacation as well but, really: Every day is a mental vacation for me. Seriously.

Now what was I saying?? Whatever.

There is a skosh of anxiety sneaking in my brain, causing minor panic attacks, wheezing and hyperventilation, surrounding the many many bills due at the first of the month. Oh ew. Just writing that down made my throw up in my mouth a little. I need to make some phone calls, me thinks.

It might have a little to do with the whole "my bank keeps kicking back my car payment and now I have to wire almost 800 dollars to the loan company and its sitting in my bag in small bills and what if that gets stolen and OH MY GOD that's what 800 dollars feels like but shit yeah I'll be getting rid of this in a second and a half and never ever seeing it again". It might have something to do with that.

But then, who the hell cares? I was just told we're going to the ZOO tomorrow. No matter how many times I go to a zoo and think "Oh, these poor animals!" it never stops me from complete, utter elation at the thought of going again. I get to see Zebra. And LIONS. AND PROBABLY BABY ANIMALS.

Seriously people. THE ZOO.

Merry Christmas!!!

What I love about Christmas:

So much food that you think you might explode.

The thump thump thump of the kiddos discovering that Santa Claus came!

Family Family Family!!

Oh, and - this new digital camera that my sister, her husband and my mama got me!! I still don't know which settings I really like, on account of I hate flash. But I have plenty of time to figure it out...

Christmas Eve I ate so much Puerto Rican food I actually made myself sick. It was okay though, after I sat and did absolutely nothing for about thirty minutes.

Christmas Morning was an amazing spectacle of kids and paper and goodies and joy. Then to Grandmother's house we went to stuff ourselves on homemade copelaties (which is so not spelled right), eggplant parmesan, and as many cookies and second servings as you could fit in your belly.

I finished a scarf for my brother in law, but have since decided to add another three feet so that he can actually wear it.
I started a new children's story, about a little bird that gets lost in a blizzard. Faintly drawn winged creatures are buzzing around my brain waiting to be laid to paper.

I binged on random things like 12 dollar shirts and 5 dollar tights at Warmart.


I visited Sister S and her family, went for beer and pizza and wandered around her step fathers junkyard looking at the old tractors. Then I binged on more stockings at Targette. Over the knee, footless and bright.

The beautiful thing? I still have four days left of vacation. More than enough time to get in some kind of clever post - Christmas post and learn how to use the settings on my brand new baby Sony Cybershot.

Any up one for a glass of wine?

All I Want For Christmas

Is...is...is everything I've already got! Hot damn, there is a Santy Claus!

Oh, and, in case you are wondering, the Caroling Party was so amazing. Here are some photos I was able to steal from people who were kind enough to bring their cameras. (No, I still don't have a digi cam of my own.)

This was the first house. You can't see that woman on the porch jumping up and down. But she did.
I'm hoping I'm in the middle of the word "Holy". Or else I'm retarded.
This girl is Jewish. She wore the only Santa cap we had.

But next year - because oh yes, there will be a next year - I will take many many photographs with a camera of my own (cause I'm going to get a damn camera), so that I can share the whole night with you.

Complete strangers showed up at my house while I was still baking ginger chocolate chews. I had yet to hit the nog and so played cocktail waitress as my tiny apartment filled with festive singers. As more people came in I relinquished my duties and simply guided people gently towards the nog station. What? Yeah, I said NOG STATION. I had dairy, soy and Puerto Rican egg nog jammed in an aluminum basin with the liter of rum. We "warmed up" while waiting for the stragglers to make it over, and by 8:30 we were out the door.

To say the least it was a memorable evening. A neighbor from the 'hood had who is known for his splendiferous Christmas spirit was one of our last stops. As we burst into Feliz Navid he stopped us, went inside his house and came back out to join us with his spoons. It was awesome.

And the next day, after my Christmasy Rum High, I slept in. Because remember? I'm unemployed! Unfortunately I won't get to stay that way for long, but long enough for me to really enjoy this vacation. I'm talking goobering on babies, playing wii and hours of scrabble, unreasonable amounts of Christmas gifts and food and then coming home from it all to ring in the new year and sleep for a couple days straight.

I am thinking of making my New Years Party a "Rent Party". Moms told me they used have these in the seventies to to help each other make hippy rent. Is it lame to ask people to give me money on New Years Eve? Don't answer that, because you know I'd do it no matter what you say.

Tomorrow - I'm FLYING!!!

When I'm With My Mom

I can't sleep past 6:45 a.m.. It's not that I don't want to sleep later. And it's not like she wakes me up. I just lay there, knowing that she is laying there, waiting for me to move so she can shuffle around making coffee and oatmeal and shushing to the kitties.

I'm basically exhausted. Yesterdays trip to H-town was the longest drive I've ever taken. It had something to do with the fact that I was still hungover. My face was still tingly. I made myself drink a coke which wore off while I still had a little over an hour till I made it to the city limits. And then as I pulled onto the final stretch I over anticipated the traffic and took a "detour' to avoid it, getting fully lost.

But I am here now and have only one more day till i fly off to the cold where I get to cuddle the bosoms of my east coast family. Just the bosom, though. Cause that's all you really need in life.

LAST DAY

That's right. It's the end of the world. Wait, no. That's some other day. Today is my last day of being an office bitch! I am diligently (read: already irritated) removing my ten gajillion files from my computer. Why didn't I do this before? Why?

In case you're wondering last night was quite successful. Though I didn't bake any cookies, I did get a Christmas present made, cleaned my house, exchanged my rum for a bigger bottle, ate potato blintzes, wrapped a few presents, and went to two grocery stores. And still made it to bed by eleven. Yes, I know, I'm amazing.

So all I really have left to do today is bake cookies and make Coquito. Oh, and work. My therapist told me that I have to help them pack up to move. Something about patterns and not falling back into them, blah blah blah. Okay, I GUESS.

After this last disk burns. Then all those naked pictures of me will be erased from the office computer, never to be seen again. Except by me. And all those people on that XXX site I'm on.

You're looking for it now, aren't you??

I feel like singing that Tom Petty song "Into The Great Wide Open". That's probably not the title of it, but those are the lyrics. I am sitting on the precipice of something beautiful and great. And, as my therapist pointed out, I didn't run away from home to achieve it! (Something about breaking patterns, Hooray!, etc, etc.).

I can't wait to get my caroling on. And then, as a delicious treat to myself for making it through this year with flying colors, I am going to sleep in. On a weekday.

More Holiday Cheer

So, I went to the liquor store on my lunch and bought a bottle of nice black rum. As I drove back to the office I looked at the little bag on the seat next to me and recounted the current guest list.

"PFFFFFFFFFTTT!," I snorted, narrowly missing the elderly folks in their cream colored Buick as I pulled out. "We're gonna need way more than this!"

In other news, there seems to be a shortage of fresh cranberries and mistletoe. I'm pretty sure it's a conspiracy against me.

The Pressure's On

Did someone say seven days till Christmas??????? I'm pretty sure I just threw up in mouth a little. And it has nothing to do with the lasagna smell that is wafting with no explanation from the refrigerator in the kitchen. I think I have become one of those "sensitive nose" people, and I have to admit to being very frightened. Oh the things I can smell.

But I digress. SEVEN DAYS. I got one gift done last night but I hated it and ended up using it as wrapping instead and it wasn't even for anyone on my current list it was for my therapist because she's so fabulous I couldn't forget about giving her something and then I was so exhausted from fighting with the sewing machine I watched CSI Miami and didn't even flinch when David Caruso made retarded dramatic pauses and then I went to bed without washing my face.

Today I still have to go to the liquor store, stop by two different grocery stores, clean, and make 23 paper candle drip catchers. Oh and bake cookies. And did I mention I'm not done with presents?

So, I need to downscale, this I know. But how? There are a few people I can probably gift something small to. Maybe I'll make some cards. I say, as if that wouldn't take me equally as long as sewing up gifts. I guess it's time to hit the DIY websites for some no sew gifts.

And then my party. And then a visit from an out of state friend. And then I go back east with moms for Christmas. Once I am on the plane I will be able to relax. Once I am out of this state I can refocus my energy...and probably get sick from all the stress I've built up.

I'll run some errands at work. That will help. One thing at a time. That will help too. Rum? Oh, that's gonna help a lot.

In General

I'm bullet listing everything today. Because my head feels like it might explode if I don't. I should have gone with my initial instinct to stay in bed today.

- This weekend I could smell EVERYTHING. I don't know if it was because of the cold weather or maybe because I am ovulating (I've heard of this. Don't snort at me!), but during my million and one errands this weekend I could smell every single thing I passed by. Walking around the neighborhood last night I could tell which houses were cooking pork with salt and pepper and which were cooking fried chicken. I knew when I passed a house that had lit a stick of frankincense and which had a Vanilla scented Yankee candle going. I smelt every single persons perfume, every cleaner that was used in every shop. I was too afraid to breath deeply, lest I inhale something foul like bad B.O. or someone who had passed gas. I was horrified to find that I could smell the emission of EVERY car that drove by me - no matter how new or fancy it was.

- By way of a million and one errands I am almost done with my Christmas shopping. I just have to buy my nephew's present. This does not mean I'm done with Christmas gifts, though. Because I still have about ten things I still want to get done for my friends. This means I will be spending all of tonight at my sewing machine. Don't bother calling, I won't answer.

- Did I mention that I only have three days left of my job? And then I am unemployed. I'm really excited about this, actually. The prospect of beginning my New Year unemployed. Kind of like stepping into the great wide unknown without a plan. Except - I totally have a plan. And that's the best part!!

- Wednesday is my Caroling party. The invite list stretches all around A-town. I think I'm going to have more people than will conceivably fit in my apartment. I still don't even know what carols we will sing. That being said, there are going to be some actual singers present and so I think I'll just stick them out in front and let them take the reigns.

- The not dating is going well.

- The not smoking is not. Did you know that I don't BREATHE? I didn't. I've been getting anxiety attacks lately and I attribute it to the fact that I have been stuffing down my emotions with cigarettes. The cigarettes would force me to breathe in and then out, even though I was breathing in poison. Whatever. So now, I'm all, "Shit my heart hurts! I'm sad!... Oh wait, no. It's because I'm not actually breathing."

- My pocket book hurts. And I still have to go to the Party Pig, the liquor store, the grocery store AND the florist (for mistletoe!).

- All in all I'm pretty psyched about Christmas again. My little humbug has passed and I'm moving forward with lights and ornaments and poisoness plants that are traditional for this season.

You know what I realized? I ran out of egg nog about a week ago. That's when I got the humbugs. To think...all this time I have just been missing the nog...

The Next Natural Step

Last night I dreamt of baby parrots, little red foxes playing with orange kittens and C begging me to come back to him. He said everything would be different this time. He swore it would be. I woke myself up from that dream.

"Oh no," I said to my dreamself, "Don't you even think of going back there!"

And I went back to sleep.

So, maybe I do know better. Wait, stick with affirmative statements. That's what causes change internally, or some crap. I do know better.

This morning driving to work I thought that, really, there's only one thing I need right now, and that's to just quit trying. Clearly I don't know how to choose men that are good for me, or men that can give me what I need or, really, men who give a shit about anything but themselves. So why bother!

When I got to work I ceremoniously removed my half a dozen personal ads off the Internet. I opened each profile, looked at my awful mess of "matches" and then one by one deleted the bastards. Delete, delete, delete.

For me, for now, it's all about cats and my good girl friends. Art and making crafts. Fug these losers who don't know how to give! Fug them and their emotional and physical unavailability! I am going to read books again and redecorate my house and maybe I'll find a baby farm animal to raise. Everyone needs a little goat in their life, right? Way more than I need a crappy relationship.

Magic Carpet Ride

EW. Not THAT kind of magic carpet ride. Get your mind out of the gutter, seriously.

THIS kind of Magic Carpet will transport us across the Blogosphere. Because today, boys and girls I'm changing my sweater (a la Mr. Rogers) putting on my loafers and heading over to Puntabulous, the blog of the so talented, hilarious (and very sexy) Craig. Craig was kind enough to have me over for a cocktail and a DEBATE.

Go check it out. Because everyone loves to go travelling.

Manifesting Miracles

Remember my anxiety about money? Remember how the amount I needed slowly got bigger as the month went on, as my unexpected expenses went up? Remember how I tried not to have a panic attack and fall apart? No? Well, I remember.

The days went by, nearing my final day at this office. They hired a new girl - who will start on the 20th - and moved my last day up from January 4th to December 19th. I tried not to pee myself from lack of replacement job. For late payments on my car. For Christmas gifts yet to buy. I tried to remain zen about it.

"Did you get your letter in the mail?" The lady from San An said, alluding to the Christmas bonus notes that had just been dispersed.

"No," I said, surprised. I didn't think I'd be getting any bonus, due to my resignation. "But I haven't checked my mail in a couple days either."

"Oh! Well you should!"

And so I did, as soon as I got home. I wasn't expecting anything at all, but she had implied that I got one anyway. It wouldn't be much. Because my salary is low, because I really didn't do anything all year. Nervously, I opened all the other mail first, preparing myself for a let down and the inevitable tears. I figured it at 250 bucks, tops.

I tore at the envelope marked with the company logo, unfolding the letter inside.

Merry Christmas!

Blah blah blah we had a very profitable year blah blah blah

J_______ Bonus: $1500

Immediately I burst into tears. Hot, stunned, mycuprunethover tears. I'm not a very good Catholic but the only thing that made any sense at that moment, in my tears, was to kneel down on my carpet just outside my little kitchen, and Thank God for this incredible blessing. I didn't really deserve that money, but there it was. Exactly what I had asked for and more.

The orange cat rolled over on his back and stretched his arms out to me with a questioning meow.

"Everything is going to be okay!" I said to him. I wanted to tell everyone.

The impossible just occurred. Even the smallest miracles deserve celebration.

In Which Little Sister Decides She Needs to Lay Off the Sauce (Again)

I mean, I'm not an alchy. I can control myself and I'm pretty sure about my limits. But damn, who the hell bought me Tequila shots? Tequila makes Evolving a very judgmentally impaired girl.

And then there is the whole thing where it messes with my SSRI. And I essentially get an emotional hangover to go with my actual hangover.

But I'm trying to go easy on myself, because it is, after all, the holidays. I knew that I would be binging this month. Extra nog, extra rum, extra cash spent. Binge binge binge.

At least the cold swept back in. I can feel a little more sure that its actually December.

Last night, during my emotional hangover (which lasts longer than the actual hangover, by the way) I had an actual realization about my heart. It's funny how laying in bed nursing a puffy, dried out head can make you really think about what the hell you doing. As in "What the hell am I doing?"

I'm dating again. It's painful, actually, more than it is fun. Not because of any "No one will ever be like him" kind of thing, but because I have managed, in just a few months, to run through every kind of unavailable man there is. If he's not a work-a-holic then he "isn't interested in dating right now". If he doesn't have a girlfriend (or wife) then he has children. If he doesn't have children, he's the kind of guy who doesn't respect me enough to take me on an actual date and to be seen in public with me.

Emotionally. Un. Available. It's like I have a friggin magnet for it.

I thought about it more, and I'm the kind that adheres strongly to the notion that you get what you give and so there it was, shining on my face like a neon sign: "No commitment? No problem!" I'm emotionally unavailable too. I'm emotionally unavailable.

For awhile after The Breakup, I was fine with this. I didn't want to be bothered with the whole mess of a relationship. Men are good for one thing, blah blah blah. I can detach and have sex like a man. And I did. I am quite good at detaching it turns out. But - and here's where ya'll will go "DUH" when I have just come to this realization - It's not really what I want.

Kids - I'm tired of emotionally unavailable. I'm tired of "I'll call you next week" but not really, and "You're so awesome!" but I have a serious relationship on my hands, and "I want you" but just for tonight and don't expect to hear from me if we're not talking about sex because I just can't give that, I just can't give you what you want, I just. can't. give.

I shared my ache with G, over some beers and The Big Lebowski.

"What's wrong with us," I asked him, "That there isn't someone who wants to be with us. You know, to just be here watching a movie on a Sunday in our pajamas? Someone who loves us so much that they think our shit doesn't stink?

"I don't know, J," he replied, somber.

We held each other's hand during the movie, desperately trying to make a connection that filled up the emptiness we both knew hadn't been filled in too long to mention. How many nights did I stay at home alone wondering when C was going to come over, wildly excited to see me again? How long did I wish he would crawl in bed and spoon me, smelling the back of my neck and then, in the morning, trying to get that scent to waft back into his nose by closing his eyes and picturing me - just as I did him.

And something inside of me broke open. It was as if someone shoved the Jaws-of-Life into my ribs and cracked them apart to expose my heart. It ached. Like I thought I was done aching. Turns out the band-aid I'd been using wasn't healing me at all. I bawled like a baby into G's hoody.

After he left I drove down the street and left a little green box on the doorstep of someone who was probably not the BDG. I had made him a little bird, as a gift, and he didn't have the courtesy to meet me to get it? Like a fool I put it in my backpack for weeks, thinking I'd see him at the coffee shop but knowing full well he was avoiding my hours of operation. I didn't want to carry it around anymore. It felt like a burden. Like I was holding a candle for someone who never even saw my light. I didn't care that at one a.m. on drizzly Sunday, I had probably just randomly gifted some one and that they would probably not even open it, would throw it away without a second thought. As long is wasn't with me anymore.

Then I re-upped the anty. With a new resolve I decided I am moving forward, with even higher standards than before. Not only am I looking for a man with the qualities of a husband who can take care of me, share my dreams and support our family as it grows, I refuse to bother with anyone who doesn't want to make the effort to show me I am the world. Someone who loves every single freckle and dark scar on my body and heart. Someone willing to take the time to get to know me and watch me sparkle and be excited to be there shining in my light. Someone who wants to shine with me.

So it wasn't just the liquor cabinet I needed to dump and take to the recycling bins. It was my old thinking, too. My old vices have to go. Out with the old. In with the shiny and new.

Qualifiers for Being My Girlfriend

Scene: I sit at my sewing machine cussing at a yard of sticky grass green vinyl, screen door open to let in the seventy degree night air. My neighbor comes home with his friend from grocery shopping. We say hello.

Friend: Oh she sews too! She makes her own clothes...she's the perfect girlfriend.

Neighbor: Sure - if you wear the same size!!

Friend: Well that's great then. I think we're pretty close in size.

Neighbor: Yeah, hmmm. Except for...everything about you.

Friend: No I think we're close - well, except for the breasts. Don't you even say it -

Neighbor: What? That yours are bigger?

Friend: Yes. I've had work done. I'm very sensitive about it.

Oh yeah, THAT.

Me, on Tuesday: "I think I have dropped the ball on a few things, but I'm not entirely sure what they are yet."

Lalala, going about my business and then - WHAM. It hits me.

RENT.

Insert string of cuss words here.

I wonder if they can repossess brains for lack of use. Maybe I should start parking mine in a different spot...

Then the Earth Swallowed Me Whole

This morning, driving to work, I couldn't help but notice that rain clouds were hanging low in the sky on all the horizons. The effect as they moved forward into the brightening blue, was that A-town was being swallowed by some kind of celestial force, the hole to the heavens narrowing in circumference by the minute. It felt foreboding, in a very Ghostbuster's II kind of way.

Sure enough, it's overcast now. Hazy though, not dark, and so there is an eerie bright light all around. Things seem quiet.

I wish it were colder, but that's one of those silly wishes people make like "I wish McDonald's wouldn't give me five hundred ketchup packets every time I order." In Texas you just know it's going to be moderately warm until January. And McDonald's will always give you too much ketchup with your lunch. These are just facts of life.

I have recovered nicely from my hangover. I am even feeling chipper and maybe slightly motivated to get some actual work done here. Wait...no it's gone. I can't focus. Even though I told them that my end date is January 4th, I am leaving for the snowier state on the 22nd and so there isn't really much time left for me here. The panic has not set in yet. But the piles of work are stacking up.

I need to begin planning for the caroling event. Printing up lyrics, making lists of groceries, cleaning my apartment. Working on commissioned piece. Work on Christmas gifts. I need about ten more hours each day.

Instead I am here at work, googling Christmas Video's on YouTube. Things could be worse. And really, Bing and Bowie together? On White Christmas? SO GOOD. And I am getting paid.

worst. horoscope. ever.

Seriously.

"Hell isn't an imaginary place dreamed up to scare the faithful, according to Pope Benedict XVI. He says sinners are actually tortured by fire for all eternity. My opinion is that his crazy talk is less worthy of consideration than the rants of the homeless guy downtown who thinks evil reptilian extraterrestrials have taken over George Bush's brain. To prime you for this week's advice, I ask you to purge any tendency you might have to believe in cartoony notions of hell like the Pope's. That will free you to meditate on the possibility that we do in fact ultimately suffer for the pain we cause others. Not by being literally tortured in a demonic realm, not at the hands of a "devil," but rather by the ugliness we have unleashed inside us. It's a good week for you to spend quality time in your personal hell, Cancerian, making up for any hurtful or greedy or unconscious things you may have done in 2007. (P.S. You're not any guiltier than the rest of us; it's just that this is a good time for you to atone.) "

Spend time in my personal hell?? Thanks Rob. That's sounds awesome.

I Don't Recall Putting on My Underwear Today

I did, but I don't recall doing it. I don't remember picking out the ones I'm wearing, or deciding which shoes I should wear. But here I am, at my office, miraculously wearing shoes and underwear. ...And, you know, other clothes.

Thus begins the Christmas Party Season! Where drinks are free and plentiful, foods are snacky and the next day people have flashes of memory that are littered with kissing under the mistletoe, or against a bar, or dancing the hokey pokey on top of it while stripping down from their woolly sweaters, and they wonder if maybe it was a dream until they look down and see some one's number in red sharpie marker on their forearm.

Then the next day they peel themselves out of their warm beds, teeter in the shower, groan and wonder why the hell they went to a Christmas Party on a weeknight.

I have at least two more holiday celebrations that will, inevitably, involve the imbibing of alcohol and probably some kind of debauchery. Chocolate Gingerbread Cookies will be made, then eaten, probably dipped in rumnog. Songs will be sung, laughter will ensue and people probably make out in a dark corner / coat closet / behind the Christmas Tree, trying to exorcise the ba hum bug out of their spirits. I will be privy to at least one Hallmark toast, and may even be the instigator.

I'll be napping on my lunch hour for the few weeks I think. Even though you could probably spackle a wall with the goo that is my brain today, you can bet your hot buttered rum I won't be turning down any invitations.

Now if I could just convince my office to let me go...paid in full with Holiday bonus...

Back From Extended Weekend

I think I have dropped the ball on a few things, but I'm not entirely sure what they are yet.

The boy who dropped off the phone books just now left the scent of coconut and Shea butter in my office. It is finally covering up the faint scent of raw sewage that I can never seem to locate.

The holiday parties have begun, and in the spirit of Christmas I have been consuming eggnog on a nightly basis. I owe KT some rum; I hope it's fattening me up.

This one's for Dooce.

For the record, the Hippo Song is like, Number 5 on my list of favorite Christmas songs ever. Unless you ask me today, after I've just watched that video. Then it's number one. Also, I think I want a hippo, too. But I would take a camel, if it came down to it.

Also, over the weekend I renewed my love for goats. Baby goats with soft floppy ears. I have the Living Nativity to thank for this. In addition to saving my soul after their really lovely performance, I got to pet baby cows, camels and goats.

I mean, I don't think it gets much cuter than that. ...With a red bow? Under ma tree? Any one?