Heart warming Christmas correspondence

I suppose, it being the holidays and all, that a lapse in posting is to be forgiven. What with the shopping and frivolity and family and eggnog and tra-la-la-ing and all, it’s hard to keep up with the ol’ blog.

But, that’s not my excuse.

I’m having one of those classic screw-the-holidays holiday funks.  I shan’t bore you with all my various gripes, but I think this cheery Christmas Eve correspondence between myself and my dear friend John paints a fairly vivid picture of our moods.

He wrote the following email after we had spent a lovely kick-back evening together at Chez LazyBuddhist:

Now, Darling, I can’t speak for you but you brought light into my Christmas this year. I thought that was a lovely homey evening and we should do more, where you play psychiatrist on the chair and me the highly volatile psychotic patient with frequent thoughts of suicide on the couch. As there is a plethora of mental and social disorders between the two of us we can trade roles and examine some of the darker, more dangerous thoughts. Playing with knives may prove to be a beneficial therapeutic tool during one of our sessions. I feel like I am moving thru molasses, low motivation, low self-esteem and am waiting for the dark month to end. I didn’t even once invite anyone to my home this season. just me and my sad poinsetta with a string of white lights slowly choking it to death.

Merry Christmas.

PS. Rudolph was female as male Reindeer drop their antlers in winter, females don’t. It’s all a sham.

And this was my cheery response:

Oh honey -

I’m so glad you had a good time.  I believe that that will also be the highlight of my holiday season.  Yesterday I was in such a holiday funk, I subjected a couple of my staff to a full blown indignant rant about how I feel I should be able to bow out of Xmas, yet because of my stupid boyfriend, I have to play along and how filled with rage and resentment I was about the whole thing.  By the end of the day I am feeling a bit calmer and think to myself, “self, maybe I should attempt to go to REI on my way home.”   As I am heading down 101 I realize I don’t have my debit card on me.  Sure, I hear places still take checks, but I can’t survive without my debit card.  So, I get off the freeway to see if I can’t still catch my buddy Gabe at the office to have him check to see if my debit card is in my office, or should he not be able to find it, confirm my fear that I had  thrown it away.  Well, guess what, my iPhone was also nowhere to be found.  Of course, any normal person would just head back to the office and go fetch those things, but no, I was obsessed, OBSESSED I tell you with getting to my local corner store and buying tortillas before they close.  The night before I developed a hankering for one of my soy chorizo/brown rice/veggie burritos slathered in copious amounts of cheese, but TJs was too crowded and after I got home from a horribly frustrated attempt at Xmas shopping too late to hit the corner store.  So, being in desperate need of copious amounts of cheese, I bag going back to the office so I can go home and get some goddamn tortillas.

Once I had my fill of cheesey goodness, I go in search of the only gift I have managed to get the boyfriend, some shaving soap I bought him at the goddamn KPFA Crafts Fair, since I figure I should have something under the tree for him.  And like everything else of some important in my life, it is missing.  Along with another bag.  Jesus fucking Christ Kathleen, just fucking shoot me.

So, here I am getting ready to drink some coffee and figure out what I’m going to do about fucking Christmas shopping and my debit card and my iPhone and the one present I have actually purchased for Ted.  Fortunately, I have a recent refill of  Valium, so I think that is going to come in handy.

Merry Christmas, my friend!

By the way, the debit card was on my desk, the iPhone under my car seat and the soap was in my bedroom.  Crisis averted.

I hope you all have a lovely holiday, however you choose to celebrate or not.

Wherein I bitch and moan

For those of you keeping track of my NaBloPoMo compliance of the goal of one post a day (and really, if that is you, I think you may need to get a hobby), I do have a valid reason for not posting yesterday.  First my power was out all day until 8ish in the evening, and then a half hour later my cable went out.  But, yesterday in a huff, I actually hand wrote a post, on actual paper with a real pen.  Oh yeah, I was rollin’ old school:

Don’t mess with me today.  I am cranky as all hell because nothing seems to be going my way.

First, there was the matter of that massive thunder-clap in the middle of my Benedryl-induced deep sleep.  Jesus, Joseph, Mary & Allah, that scared the crap out of me.  The house shook.  Rabbits and cats freaked the fuck out and car sirens went off for miles around. Living as close as I do to the Chevron refinery, I honestly thought it had exploded.  Seriously, it was hella hella loud. Scary loud. When  I managed to stumble out of bed to find out what the hell was happening, I realized my power is out.  Looking out my window I see a fireworks display coming from the transformer on the power line in front of my house.  Cool.  Great.  This weird electrical storm not only wakes me up but threatens to burn down my house.  Nice.

Yes, I know, I’m a big ol’ weather wimp.  Most of us in the San Francisco Bay Area are. I can appreciate dramatic weather, but not when it wakes me up in the middle of a rare deep sleep and fucks up my Saturday. Oh, and I prefer my thunder storms to come with boatloads of rain.  This dry shit isn’t cutting it for me.

As of this writing, the power has been out for 15 hours.  PG&E is saying it will be another 5 hours until it is restored and “crews on are the scene.”  Oh yeah?  Earlier this place was crawling with PG&E crews.  Now?  Maybe they’ve all decided to telecommute instead.

Oh, and while I’m at it, hey free Wifi cafes, there are these things called electrical outlets.  You may want to install some for your customers.  And Starbucks?  You suck.  You may be all about the electrical outlets, but I ain’t paying for WiFi.  Oh, and Peets has much better coffee.

After I wrote this my power came back on.  Yay!  Then my cable went down.  Shit! But, by that point I was just spent and fortunately did not have the energy to write a diatribe against Comcast.  You’re safe for now, Comcast.  Just don’t fuck with me again.

So wrong, but so funny

Thanks to Nice Melons for pointing me to this site.

The children are our future

Wow.  That’s all I have to say.  Wow. 

And in case you thought there was cogent thought somewhere in that ramble, let me assure you, there was not.  Here’s the transcript.

Questioner: Recent polls have shown a fifth of Americans can’t locate the U.S. on a world map. Why do you think this is?

Miss Teen South Carolina: I personally believe the U.S. Americans are unable to do so because some people out there in our nation don’t have maps and I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and the Iraq everywhere like such as and I believe they should our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S. or should help South Africa or should help the Iraq and Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future for the children.

Craig’s cat will eat your soul

My new favorite blog is Cute with Chris. Chris is now my internet boyfriend.

Recently, one of his viewers posted this picture:

With all the recent goings on in my life; a dead cat, construction workers swarming outside my home office window, and general sense of who gives a fuck, this makes me laugh.