Oh sigh. There’s nothing to see here. No New Year’s epiphanies, nor advice, nor inspiration, nor anecdotes, nor scintillation even, seeing as I and The Rock fell into a sexless sleep at about 9PM, waking only briefly to the sound of midnight fireworks, too tired and lazy to even mumble “Happy New Year” to each other. Then, I went and slept on the couch because of my post-nasal drip.
(I bet that any minute now, some reality show producer is going to contact me because of all my sure-to-attract-viewers life sizzle and cool goings-ons. Also all the sex, which I spell S-O-C-K-S.)
I just haven’t wanted to show up here. Well, I wanted to, but planned to blog about something helpful, or funny at least, or at minimum, sharey, like posting a list of my favorite blog entries (by other people) of 2008. But that takes thought and forebearance and intestinal fortitude, none of which I have in spades these days. I don’t even have them in clubs, or diamonds. Definitely not in diamonds. Maybe moissanite. I think I can manage moissanite. So look, I’m just going to babble.
We went to Camarillo for the holidays and spent some time with my dad, my stepmom, my younger brother, who now lives in Singapore, my nephew Lukie, and my brother’s girlfriend and two children. A couple of biased things about that: Did you know that Asian children are much smarter than their American counterparts? Something about going to school from 8:30 to 5, and that education is a national priority. Also, did you know that American children are spazzier than their Asian peers? Something about more sugar in our diets. Which was not helped in the least by this man:
(Don’t make fun of his Christmas sweater. He takes it very seriously.)
The man with the wine in one hand and a lit cigar in the other. The man who snuck cookies and chocolates and chips of all kinds into my kids’ hands at a rate of two a minute. And I’m not even kidding you. The Rock clocked it.
Of course, there was also turkey, and ham, and beef, and cheese, and muffins, and petit fours, and Frosted Flakes, and cheese bread, and stuffing, and flavored creamers, and The Rock and I did not eat one healthy thing for four days. I would have used the bathroom to evacuate all the junk, but you’ve seen the bathroom right? It defies pooping. At any rate, it was weird, but I actually found myself looking for fruit. And that never happens. Then there’s the wine and the beer, and the martinis, and the Bloody Marys and the screwdrivers, and the White Russians and all manner of alcohol, consumed copiously and with great gusto all holidays long, usually starting at noon. In fact, I wrote a long post about the history of drinking in my family because it’s long and illustrious, but I will publish that buzz kill another time.
Oh! And the antiques! There are many at my dad and stepmom’s home. I love them both, but enough with the footstools already! Every square inch of the house is covered head to toe with something to bump into. Also, my stepmom collects vintage and vaguely threatening Santas, usually accompanied by some fierce-ish woodland animal, both of which can topple over onto you at any time, instantly plunging you into a nightmarish Tim Burton parody.
Booger ran throat first into the edge of a Shaker table and we thought that was it when a lovely bruise necklace instantly appeared, but up she popped again, only to collapse into a settee. Or divan. No, settee. Definitely a settee.
We ended up abandoning much of our parental supervision this Christmas, because really, what’s the point when Grandpa resists your every move, and impishly says the opposite of what you say. For instance, we said, “Time for bed!” and Grandpa countered with, “Hey! It’s Christmas! Let them stay up late!” So we did. And the kids kinda just spun out of control until they couldn’t rotate another turn,
and slumped into crazy little heaps that we later coaxed to the makeshift bed on the office floor.
Also, remember that bit about “educational presents” I preached about a few weeks ago? HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA! The joke’s on me!
Five dollars to the first person who spots a non-High-School Musical or Disney Princess bag in this photo! (Also, note the line of back-up wine glasses on the table. For just in case you broke your other one in a drunken stumble over a Barbie Styling Head.) Either way, Toots is shown above cradling one of her 50 thousand-billion gifts, while wearing her snuggly, warm and cozy Children’s Place pajamas, which can also double as day clothes! I know, because I tested it one morning when Toots slipped it by me and wore the shirt to preschool. What? You’d like a $30 Children’s Place Gift Card for your very own warm, day-to-night transitional PJs? Or for something else cute? OK! Stay tuned.
The day after Christmas, The Rock and I debated heading home. After all, I hadn’t pooped in three days and we were all suffering from scurvy, but we decided instead to take a break and head to Ventura for some family time. The beach truly refreshed us all, and we headed back to Grandpa’s ready to welcome another ham.
So I suppose that’s about it. The next few days passed in a blur of the southbound 405, Carl’s Juniors, organizational crates, and prolific poops.
And so how were your holidays?
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