Happy holidays. Hold the happy.

Why is it that every year, about this time, when we pull out the camera and lighting kit and festive attire and reindeer antlers or other such accessories for our annual Christmas card picture, we end up stomping, yelling, growling, threatening to tell Santa about bad attitudes, popping antacids and longing for a couple eggnogs with rum -- hold the eggnog? Tis the season, my butt.

Perhaps next year we'll hire "extras" to pose for our greeting card photo. That way, when they squirm and whine and beg for candy and make sour faces and refuse to do a single thing asked of them, we can hate them and not feel guilty about it.

Plus, while we're creating this sugarplum fantasy, I'll be in charge of casting. I'd like you to meet the new me...Kate Winslet.

Comments

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.

Hair

This has become the age-old question...Why do men hate short hair on women? I've been thinking about this a lot because my current style, an angled bob, requires a bunch of fussing every morning to get it to do anything. My favorite haircut of all time, as far as ease of care, was my pixie cut. I loved that I could wash it, gel it, and be done. No blow drying or flattening or curling. Just gel and go. Very sporty. I thought it looked cute. My husband has another opinion. The longer the better is his motto. Thing is, my hair becomes an unruly, tangled, nappy mop when it gets long. If I had all the time in the world and Jennifer Aniston's budget, I'd be more than happy to grow it long and have others style it every day. In real life, I guess I'd rather go for comfort and convenience. And if you ask me, I think the pixie is dang cute. I suspect heterosexual men aren't hot on short hair, in general, because it's too much like their own hair. No matter how much jewel

Ho, Ho, Ho, How Many Times Can I Use "I'm too busy" as an Excuse?

I haven't had time to write. Work, swim meet volunteering, holiday decorating and shopping. But truthfully, I've not been in much of a mood to write anything anyway. Last night we put up the tree and Santa chachkies, and I drank my first egg nog of the season, so perhaps I'll be in a cheerier mood. Also, I have spent some time writing the annual Schoon holiday newsletter. If you happen to get a copy, treat it like a drinking game. Every time I make you roll your eyes, take a drink. Nog, wassail, Everclear. Whatever gets you through. One sure way to assist with merriment motivation is listening to Christmas carols. I'm not going to get into a debate over what truly constitutes a carol. You can "Jesus is the reason for the season" yourself until you turn blue; I generally lean toward the secular end of the holiday tune spectrum. And if you just gasped at my use of holiday instead of Christmas, go suck on a candy cane. It's my blog and my opinions. Deal.

WanderingAmylessly 2.0

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