Wait. What time of year is it?

We have the tree. We have the lights. I have the pile of well-chosen and very exciting gifts from the Big Guy stuffed into a corner of the garage and nonchalantly covered with an old sheet so it looks like just another pile o' crap in my crap-piled garage. I'm behind on the wrapping, can't remember what I've bought for whom (there's a very organized list around here somewhere, but I can't seem to get arsed enough to find it and make the little check-marks), I've bought but not sent the cards, I can't for the life of me come up with a gift for my dad that doesn't involve food.
Yep. Must be Christmas.
But, honestly, I'm just not feelin' it this year.

Maybe it's the music. Instead of flooding my auditory canal with the Nutcracker or Manheim Steamroller or even the Chipmunks Christmas, I've been obsessed with Lady Gaga's Bad Romance. I know. It's like a train wreck, that video; I can't look away. My fingers automatically click-click-click the click wheel on the iPod (aka the iCan't Be Without It) to the 'rah-rah-rum-mah-mah' and just. Can't. Stop. Between that and the Susan Boyle on endless loop at work, I'm just not dreaming of a white Christmas or walking in a winter wonderland.

Maybe it's work. Mine and The Hubby's. I got 'promoted' *polishes nails on shirt* from the one-hour-a-week story lady to a full-blown (albeit part-time) Bookseller at the B&N. Impressive, no? I like it; finding obscure books in the theatre/drama section for frantic students taking Drama 2, figuring out what book the customer needs when all they can tell me is "Um, it's like, square? And has, like, quotes in it?" And let's not forget the joy of watching the Sugarhouse Crazies wander through. Smudged-Glasses-Guy really put in some time lately. Both our Sweet Trannies got new wigs. Meth Gal buzzed around the store all day yesterday and only one guy passed out in the bathroom. Love the Sugar House neighborhood.
The Hubby, who works for the Evil Empire of banking, is still putting in 11 hour days and hitting the gym every night. So, when he's home, I'm usually at work or soaking my tired tootsies and when he's at work or the gym I'm...on facebook. When we're both in the same room at the same time we're too tired to do anything. And so is the Girl who wakes up at 5 a.m. We haven't done any Family Quality Time Holiday Things.

Maybe it's the chaos of my house. It's reached new heights, really. Besides having brought in all 3 rabbits so they wouldn't become bunnicicles, we got a puppy! A BIG puppy! So, crowd 3 cages in the dining room and three dog beds in the den and a Christmas tree and lots and lots and lots of puppy toys and viola! It's a wreck! Not to mention the fact that I still haven't gotten the floors done downstairs. So there are currently about 15 or so boxes of bamboo flooring taking up considerable room in the 'utility room' in the basement. And crap piled around them. And spreading.

Christmas parties? Yeah. Don't get me started.

Hm.

Ok.

Time for Operation Ho-Ho-Ho-Dammit!

I will use the handy-dandy "family share" feature on the iTunes and steal some of the Hubby's vast collection of Christmas music. I will play it. I will like it.

We will, as a happy-frickin'-fambly, go ice skating, see some uber-carbon-footprint lights display somewhere, I will buy Nutcracker tickets.

I will wrap the myriad of probably-not-quite-what-they-want gifts and put them under the tree. I will devise a method of keeping the puppy out from under the tree. I will sit and write addresses on envelopes and put cards in them. I will put them in a pile and forget to mail them.

I will sit on the sofa snuggling with my daughter and a cup of homemade peppermint hot chocolate and just...listen.

Complicated Santa

It has begun. For the last 7 Christmases I've had it fairly easy (at least nothing in my pickled little brain jumps out as being hard to find on the Girl's list for Santa). A book, a puzzle, a rabbit or three, some of those foot-nabbing Littlest Pet Shop critters. Nothing I couldn't just stroll into any largish toy retailer and get it all in one fell swoop. I'd stop at the quaintly cool locally owned toy shop and get some brain-using thingie and call it good. Santa would then dust off her hands and pour a nice stiff peppermintini.

This year, I'm drinking the peppermintini in an attempt to calm the frustration and desire to choke the living you-know-what out of whoever decided that 7 was a great year to get them started on electronics. I know, I know. What's the big deal? Hey, here's the big deal:
I'm a moron who thought it would be cool to get her the green Nintendo DS instead of the pink DS because I found a green one at best buy.com for cheaper and it came with a really cool cooking personal trainer for me. I figured I'd just buy her little bimbo-in-training and a few college-bound-child games and call it good. Made sure she was okay with green instead of the boring pink that all of her friends have and wouldn't it be GREAT not to worry about getting yours confused with anyone else's because it's GREEN? Santa wanted to know, of course.
Notwithstanding the fact that I gained cool points for having talked to the big man himself, I was pretty proud of the Girl for being willing to break out of the pink mold. I'm tired of pink.
So I smugly snuck back to the computer and ordered the green one. Clicked 'checkout'. Was informed that it was no longer available. NO LONGER AVAILABLE? Then why in the great blue beyond is it still on your everloving website!?!?! And hey, guess what? You can't actually buy a green Nintendo DS lite anywhere in the US of A. It was a Mother's Day special. Ha ha all over me.

Ebay? Ebay! Of course! Oo, look, there are three of them!


Hang on, I'm the highest bidder right now, my ebay bid only has 30 more seconds. I'll be right back.

Crap.

I'm gonna need more Schnapps.