Christmas Card

Dear Friend, here is your card! (Yeah! That just saved me from addressing some!) I think I need a new printer, label maker program, etc.  ’cause this Christmas card thing is a bitch.

I must send cards out every year since I’m such a friggin’ shut-in (as are most people I know) that we would all cease to exist on the planet if I didn’t send a picture and a “hi” and get one likewise from friends and family.

I love the corny Christmas letters; I love the pictures of the kids as they go from cute babies to pimply teens, and later the ones of mom and dad on some trip finally unencumbered by the wee ones.

But dang it if the list isn’t pretty long and getting longer every year. And then someone always sends you one, and you go, “Crap I forgot them,” and then have to fire one back. I actually paid a friend to alphabetize my list and combine my list with my husband’s, but I still can’t figure out how to print the list correctly so I don’t have to hand address each one. And honestly, I have the writing of a serial killer, so I’m sure I’m giving the US postal office gray hairs.

My Ghetto Christmas Card

The past few years, my cards were great. During our engagement, we had a hi-lar-ious picture from Mark’s big bday bash with us, go go dancers, and our best gay friend in a boa. We looked great. The next year, Vivien was newborn so that was easy. Picture of new baby. The following year, we had a great picture of our wedding (the fun one, not the legal one)  with all of our combined children. Everyone was made up and/or tan and pretty, and it was a professional photographer. Last year, I did a spoof of a Christmas card. Vivien played in the living room happily involved in some tinsel; Oliver sat in a chair looking like he hated us ( on the edge of 14 at the time); I was in a housecoat spacing out; and Mark was bounding in joyfully home only to be ignored by all. Inside I said, “From our REAL family to yours.” And I paid someone to take it.

This year, I didn’t want to pay anyone. Mark also wanted his older son Ben in it. Which was fine with me, but by the time we all gathered, it was dark. I had a friend stand on a chair, and voila “The Peel Family Portrait.” Did it on my mac. I did capture a theme. I never sent a change-of-address card when we moved in May, so this was “From our NEW home to yours.” I bet a lot of my usual senders are shooting their holiday cards to our old address. Sometimes forwarded, sometimes not.

Oh, the pictures I am missing!

Holiday Work Party, Yeah!

I never thought I would say this, but Yeah, MY work is having a holiday party, and I AM invited!! In this economy, I’m thrilled. I was cut out of their Emmy party because of cost-cutting measures, and it looks like the order of my show is going to reduced next year. So any sign of viable work, and my participation in it, is most welcome.

089/365 Money...What Money
Creative Commons License photo credit: stuartpilbrow

A while back, I asked people if they were feeling the economic downturn.  Back then, only about 1/3 said yes.  Well, I bet it’s more now.  I know it is around here.  Feels a little scary.

Glad to have a reason to put on a pretty dress.

Halloween Is Coming

At three, my little one is getting hip to Halloween. Last year my mom and I took her trick-or-treating. She was dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz (she had no idea who Dorothy was, but I dug it). This is Viv in her costume when she was one. It cost $40, so I had her wear it for two years running. I was a doctor. When we went trick-or-treating, Vivien often tried to give the candy back to the people who gave it to her. It was so cute.

This year she is noticing other people’s decorations and she wanted to get in on the fun. So we went shopping today for Halloween decorations, at a party supply store. My gal is a bit sensitive, so everything was deemed “too scary, Mama” as we walked the aisles.

“Well, Halloween is supposed to be scary, but in a tongue-in-cheek way.” Surprisingly a three-year-old didn’t understand that. (She no more understood it when later in the afternoon she was fighting me on her nap, and I told her she was being contrary.  She stopped wailing, “I don’t know what contrary means!”)

I found a tissue-paper pumpkin but that was rejected as well. Finally she agreed to some smiling pumpkins and a “happy” cardboard ghost.

It did make me think.  Halloween is kind of weird.