Jollification and Ticker Tape

(I'm not one for resolutions and the Jewish New Year feels more like beginnings than mid-winter, but I can't help but be thrilled...)

I've got a new camera, a fresh Nikki McClure calendar, sturdy shoes on my feet.
Can this new year be anything less than wonderful?

2005 brought some solidly good times, good people and all sorts of new knowledge!

I'm positively giddy with the prospects for 2006 - all the dirt from places I've yet to go collected in the treads of my shoes and tires.

I am so glad that this world is wide open and we are wonderful and in it.

It's getting lighter by two minutes each and every day!

Let's straddle state lines and wade deep in the water until our ankles are soaked (but we won't mind) because tomorrow morning we can sleep in late and rub our grumbly tummies and proclaim, "O, I have not eaten anything at all this year!"

goody
goody
goody

success

sometimes i think success is all a matter of
punctuality,
enthusiasm
and hard work.

other times i think it's just
who you know.

either way,
right about now,
things are not looking too good
on paper.

Currently spinning:
Sleater-Kinney ~ The Hot Rock

build

Currently spinning:
MIA ~ Arular

a (late) christmas story

I have a habit of referring to animals as being “heathens” and I realized this most likely stems from an incident that occurred several years ago: The Great Holiday Massacre of Nineteen-Nineteysomethingruther.

One of our family pets was a mutant Welsh Corgi/yellow Labrador amalgam named Corky. Poor Cork had issues, to put it lightly, but most days he was a fine dog.

My family has never been particularly religious, but we did have a Nativity scene handed down from my paternal grandmother. It wasn’t a priceless antique, but it was a nice little German papier mâchè crèche. Each year we dutifully set it up beneath the sheltering limbs of the Christmas tree, and each year it remained unmolested by man or beast (save the rare overzealous gift-grabber).

Coincidentally, the same year Corky came into our lives, members of the Nativity began disappearing.
First it was one of the Three Wise Men.
Then one of the manger animals wandered astray.
By the time we found the partially-digested remains in the backyard, poor Joseph had already gone AWOL.

We found a more suitable home for the manger on the fireplace mantel and ended up purchasing a second Nativity set. In subsequent years we had a rotating cast of crèche understudies including two baby Jesuses, which we swapped depending on how the spirit moved us.

The Massacre occurred around the time that Newt Gingrich was banging his drum and squawking about the whole family values/unwed welfare mothers thing. Given we were living in suburban D.C., I’ll honor Corky’s furry, floppy-eared memory by assuming the random disappearances were merely his frustrated commentary on the political climate at that time.


Currently spinning:
Modest Mouse mix

signs of the season

+ snowglobe rings
+ marzipan animals
+ human zambonis
+ wind-cherried cheeks
+ heavenly evergreen
+ dancing to the vince guaraldi trio
+ Hartzler's eggnog
+ the sound of snow falling in the still, dark morning
+ even john waters has a christmas album!
+ andre was a young black santa claus
+ wasabi snowmen
+ Christmas missives filled with hijinks and, um, highlights...




+ speaking of christmas cards, Lisa was writing hers when she turned, pen aloft, and asked, "How do you spell hepatitis?" Then again, I oughtn't be surprised: She's the gal who trimmed her tree with a vice charm garland (guns! girls! gin!) and Anaïs Nin and phrenology ornaments.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Happy Christmas (Hanukkah/Solstice/Eid) and gladdest tidings to all!


Please, please, please hold your dear ones close.

shrugging against the cold

nota bene:
the key to wintering
(the heart of it all) -
remember to look up.


currently spinning:
electrelane ~ the power out

holly days

I spent some time over the past two days trying to track down specific stamps to use on this year's batch of Christmas cards.

I didn't want a reverent madonna and child. I didn't want portly santas or Christmas cookies.

I narrowed my options for holiday postage down to two choices; either R. Buckminster Fuller or that other bastion of Christmas cheer: Ronnie Reagan.


(here r.r. leads the press corps in a rousing rendition of "rudolph the red-nosed reindeer")

Alas, with the impending postage increase (despite the USPS having something like a billion-plus dollar surplus thanks to Operation Iraqi Oil) the shelves had not been re-stocked and pickings were slim. I ended up using a hodgepodge of flowers, vintage automobiles and masterworks of modern American architecture to pay the way of my missives. Ho ho ho, indeed.

Sending out Christmas cards is one of those things that makes me feel über adult, like having several insurance policies or remembering to take the trash out to the curb on certain nights.

I'll admit that the content of the cards doesn't go much beyond a scribbled note on the facing page - no lengthy letter detailing how much good fortune has fallen upon my fair family this year. No pictures of the kids.

My parents still include a family update letter with their holiday cards. And each year I wheedle and plead, hoping they'll toss in some salacious tidbit to offset the quantity of sunshine and glory that the Good Lord has blown directly up the collective backsides of The Smith/Brown/Jones clan this season.

Something like, "Leslie is still living in sin with her Internet boyfriend in his mother's basement in Ohio; luckily it looks like she'll make head cashier here real soon at her job at the Super Wal-Mart. And dontcha know we sure are pleased as Punch about all that."

Sucks to you and your summa cum laude-grubbing offspring, anyway!

I am sad to report that, so far, all attempts to persuade my sweet, respectable family that, this, indeed, is a brilliant idea, have failed.

My mother (bless her) seems to be the only one who finds me as equally--if not more--humorous as I find myself. And this is probably as it should be.

For now I will continue to have a big ol' smirk and chuckle party all by my lonesome as I address cards to families with lengthy titles such as The Secret Society of Jane and Joe Sixpack or The Eminently Effervescent Cam Jansen.

Oh, and in the interactive portion of my blogthering, I'm taking votes for my Christmas Day movie viewing choices. I can finally relent and embrace my American citizenship and watch either It's a Wonderful Life or Miracle on 34th Street, as I've seen neither.

Yup, that sound you hear is the commie alarm going off.

Just between you and me, I'm leaning towards something more Lynchian--perhaps a delightful Twin Peaks marathon or Strange Brew. And I did just pick up season two of The Adventures of Pete & Pete... but I'm open to suggestions.

Currently spinning:
The Fall ~ 50,000 Fall Fans Can't Be Wrong

welcome to

dutch treats

this might be the most coolestest site -- e v e r.

(sweet wesley anderson, is that futura?!?!)

currently spinning:
jeremy enigk ~ return of the frog queen

wings, wheels or wit:

for those who only kind of like birds



Currently spinning:
Jo(h)anna Newsom ~ The Milk-Eyed Mender

cla(s)p your hands, oyez

(frozen feet)




(modest feet)


.
.
.

(no more feet)

Currently spinning:
Pinback ~ Blue Screen Life

coming to america

last night i dreamed of neil diamond.
he was narrating a television biopic (about himself) in a mirror.
he lit a match, blew it out, and used the ashes as blush.
i have to say, it looked pretty good on him.



Currently spinning:
Pavement ~ Brighten the Corners

(lips like) sugar