Listen, I don't even know what to say. I mean, I literally do not know what I'm going to say in this post; I'm putting something up here because it's way past time and I feel obligated and ashamed. This could be terrible, it could be wonderful, it could be horrifying--neither of us knows how it will all turn out.
I suggest alcohol, perhaps a nice glass of cabernet or maybe a good martini. Two olives in case things get long-winded and you need a little snack. Okay. Let's go.
1. The Dept. got all the way to Christmas Eve, and I thought we were home free, but then no, the dishwasher refused to drain. Rick came home from work, took some stuff apart, cleaned some gunk out of some stuff, tried it again, but alas! No compliance. I Googled for remedies, watched some YouTube videos (how boring that was, let me tell you), then resorted to My Plan B. I stood right in front of it and called it out for the Betrayor it was. And I called into question its lineage as a goddam Frigidaire, which we never should have bought anyway, may they burn in hell. Then, after totally humiliating it, I called the appliance store where we buy everything that fails us, and they sent out a repairman--who remembered working on our icemaker during Thanksgiving last year...or was it the year before? It's all a blur. Anyway, he fixed it easily, and well before my family party.
2. Which leads me to what became my new Holiday Philosophy. A couple nights before Christmas Eve, a house near us simply exploded. Completely. (It was later traced to a gas leak from the furnace.) Luckily, it was vacant, a rental that was without tenants and on the market. Shockingly, the house next door to it had to be torn down a few hours afterward because its second floor had come crashing partway down into the first floor as a result of the concussion. The people inside had no way to extract any of their belongings upstairs or in the part of the first floor that had been structurally compromised. Imagine sitting in your home, cozily watching TV, your Christmas tree shining brightly at 9:45 PM, then a huge explosion blows your windows out, and by 1:00 AM, you have no house, no Christmas, and over half of your belongings are gone forever. I was completely overwhelmed by the idea of it. So when my dishwasher gave out, I said, "At least my house didn't explode." And that became my mantra for anything that blipped my radar. Because...wow. Everything pales by comparison.
3. But I have to admit that my New Mantra and I are getting Sorely Tested lately by this Effing Snow, which is relentless and overwhelming and quite honestly, getting Personal. It just KEEPS SNOWING AND FOR NO REASON. We don't really need it, thank you, as we have right now an Overabundance Of Snow. Eight inches is plenty for anyone, and that crap is EVERYWHERE. For two days it kept me in the house because of blizzardy conditions and JUST SO MUCH SNOW EVERYPLACE. And, just for the record, No, it is NOT PRETTY. It is TREACHEROUS AND, IN CASE YOU ARE UNAWARE, FROZEN. This kind of snow makes me housebound and, therefore, Mushbrained. The more it snows, the stupider I get. Just yesterday, I lost track of my phone about eleventy hundred times. And I was only on the first floor of the house. And I was irked because the Cats are No Help. It's only going to get worse; a bigass storm is forecast for Sunday which will bring MORE SNOW. And BELOW ZERO TEMPERATURES. I would cry, except that it would be Truly Shameful. I had a blissful Christmas in my home which is intact. Sigh.
4. Rick and I were roundly criticized by the boys for having boring Christmas gift idea lists. Sam especially was disgusted. Finding himself a little more flush this year, he was finally looking forward to getting presents for the family. In a text message discussion with Jared, he compared notes about shopping for his dad. Jared, ever the dutiful son, told Sam that I had suggested some warm sweaters or sweatpants. Instantly by return text Sam said, "Fuck that. I'm getting Dad a bear shooting game and a gun for his Wii." Of course he did, and there has been an endless parade of dead, bloody animals across my television ever since. Thank goodness Downton Abbey starts tomorrow.
That's enough, I think. How are all of you? Resolute? Virtuous? Warm and balmy? Most importantly, have you a good idea where your phone is right now? Check in.