I thought of writing you during actual Christmas, but I figured you had enough to do without checking in on my ass. So here's how Christmas went, and I'm sure you're pulling the chair in closer so you don't miss a word.
We got off work early on Christmas Eve eve, so I went to the store (what crowd?) and got stuff to make Christmas lasagna for myself, then I schlepped to the wine store (what white crowd?) and got wine to take to the parties I'd been invited to. June, popular since never, cause frankly she's a pain in the ass, but people felt sorry for me.
I hustled home and Lily gave many shits about my arrival. This bed was for Steely Dan, who I thought was a girl and he couldn't be more of a boy, and therefore gave up this bed after about one try. He sleeps on beds of nails and the talons of dead eagles he's slaughtered and so on. So Lily was happy to take over his girly bed. His Helen Gurly Brown bed.
Anyway, the next 24 hours were something of a blur, and to tell you the truth I was looking forward to the weekend being exactly what I had planned: parties and then me getting to be alone. But I hardly DID get to be alone, with the "Can I drop something off" people and the dropping-in people and the calling-me people and I REALLY AM OKAY ALONE IN FACT I RELISH IT.
My mother sent me money to buy a new back door, so on Christmas Eve I got my eyebrows waxed, then I went to Lowe's, and every time I thought about asking about my back door I got the giggles. I was also just drawn to the mirrors, like a crow.
When I finally peeled myself from the mirrors and stopped giggling over "back door," I sauntered to a cute 17-year-old salesboy, asked about back doors, giggled, then coquettishly let him show me his back doors. [snurfle!]
We talked about back doors [heeeee] for quite awhile, and after I'd convinced myself he was dying to come home and see my back door for himself, I paraded hotly through the store, got to my car, and once I saw myself up close, I gasped. The aloe on my eyes from the waxing had moved all the eye makeup directly onto the center of my eyelid, making me look precisely insane.
I'D HAD A MIRROR AT MY DISPOSAL! WHY DID I NOT SEE IT? Anyway you can't tell up there but trust me. I looked ridik.
Merry Christmas.
I cleaned myself up and put on a dress and headed to my friend Ian's party. I work with him, and I've been knowing him and his wife for awhile now. Back before they moved into the (ADORABLE) house they live in now, they had the apartment next to Ned. Remember Ned? That guy I went out with for awhile?
Here's Ian's wife, who you would love. You would. You would love her. They are both from Puerto Rico, and they know how to host, man. I was the only non-family member there, and I quickly realized I was the only one without an Ivy-League degree, so I was sort of the village idiot. But when am I not?
They have the kind of house you never want to leave, and EVERYTHING.WAS.DELICIOUS. Everything. "Have you ever tried hooo de blodoo-oo?" they'd ask, handing me some Puerto Rican dish. "No!" I'd say, then die at whatever new good thing I was eating. Mother of God.
It was, like, the perfect evening. His whole family is our people.
Edsel and I went to bed so Santa could come. And he did! Mom sent strawberries.
Peg sent flowers.
wat anyone send edzul?
This was the first year I got more gifts from readers than from people I know in my actual life. Just proving that in real life, I am not likable.
Dear Faithful Reader who sent me the '50s swan decals: I'm fuckin' framing those. Oh my god.
You guys know me too well.
I think I'm easy to shop for. Is it vintage? Well, then does it sparkle? You're golden!
As usual, my friend Dot sent me a card with her dog on it, and not her kids. Everyone else gets her kids.
Someone was a Christmas dick.
So, it was a good Christmas, and my lasagna was delicious, even though I realized too late that my whole recipe box is apparently at Ned's. Remember that guy Ned I dated briefly? I did not call for it, but soldiered on with no recipe, and it turns out I know how to make lasagna in my head. Not that I cooked it in my head, cause weird.
Also, I'd like to point out that I moved out of that place 14 months ago and just now noticed my recipes are gone.
Oh, god, loading all these pictures has taken forever and I gotta go. Tomorrow I will show you The Great Dismantling of Christmas and also how I rearranged the furniture. Helen Keller is coming and I want to drive her crazy.
Hope your holiday was snazzy, and that you all got ponies.
Luff,
Jooooooon
