and a partridge in a pear tree

If frequency of blog posts determined placement on Santa's list, in four days I'd be opening colorful boxes of reindeer shit. Writing fail on my part this month. Yet another "area for growth" on the ever-growing resolution list.

And this posty-post right here...it's not going to be amazing. Let's just get that out in the open. No one will etch these words in stone because I am channeling my inner six year old and cannot focus on anything other than SANTASANTASANTA.

By and large my self-imposed blogging rules are to avoid (1) emo boo-hoo shit, (2) dear diary references of no relevance to anyone else, and (3) lists. Lists are the least offensive but are an easy out all the same, the written equivalent of offering up a handjob so you can claim effort when really you just want to sleep.

So if you couldn't tell before this, I'm absolutely breaking my third rule today. If this upsets you, well, Rudolph says go fuck yourself. Such a potty-mouthed reindeer he is.

Any-hoo.....things that are currently the schnapps in my cocoa:
  • Wheels up in roughly forty hours, SNA to PDX...I have a middle seat but I'll deal as long as Mr. or Ms. Window Seat isn't a pee-monster. It's a two hour, twenty minute flight. You go more than once, and I activate Beast Mode.
  • My shopping is 99.9% done and I didn't sell any organs to finance this miracle.
  • I get to see my cousin and her cute little bi-racial baby, renewing the sadness over both my parents being white as pure snow.
  • Babs promised me lunch at Juan Colorado's, and nothing makes me happier than a mouthful of Mexican. Pun intended? Bet your sweet ass it was.
  • Presents. Spare me the holier-than-thou shit. I need new socks and that business ain't free.
  • Food. Paid for and prepared by others. Massive win.
  • Reuniting with a bestie for some good old fashioned shenanigans. If being hungover on Christmas Eve is wrong, I don't want to be right.
  • Board games with my dad's side of the tree. Not only is it tradition, but mixing alcohol with mental illness and sarcasm is a special joy not known by the masses.
  • Green. Everywhere. Actual trees, not a weed reference, and yes I do have to clarify because it's Oregon and both are plentiful.
That's all. Sorry to subject you to a list-job, I'd offer more but my mind is 1,000 miles to the north...and I have a headache.

Safe travels amigos -


1 comment:

  1. I sooooooo excite excite! I almost died when I received this text message last night...."Party at my place Saturday night if u wanna come"......from none other than...good old Scotty Wallace. Which, of course, reminded me of the time we drove up to Grant's house and you became friends with the pot smokin' hicks....GREAT times :)

    Can't wait to see your face