An Open Letter to the Oxygen Network


Gah. Ok, where to begin?

We have heat!  A merry gift for Christmas Eve…the happy roar of our HVAC thingie springing to life and our water heater purring away, while visions of non-freezing floors dance in our heads. We cranked the heat up to a balmy 80 degrees just because we could.  Anyone who wanted to wear a festive Christmas sweater be damned…I was going to take my wooly socks off and prance around in a tank top.

Plus: festive sweaters are fugly.

Gifts?  Well, of course. Tiffany earrings! Rocktastic coat from Benetton! BCBG shoes! Sephora gift sets!  Marc Jacobs perfume! Clubby clothes!  Loungy clothes! Muppet pyjamas! South Park, Monty Python! And more! Best. Christmas. Haul. Ever.

We had enough food to feed an army and left one bottle of wine unopened.

After everyone cleared out I decided to be all domestic and make some stock out of the turkey bones and sliced the top of a finger off with my brand-new chef’s knife. I’m used to knives that require a sawing/hacking motion to cut through butter, so OW. It was Attack of the Leftovers!  Ha!  I mean groan.

(Incidentally, this was the same finger that, a few months ago, I’d taken a chunk of the nail off with a SAFETY RAZOR. The nail had just grown back and now it’s all disfigured again.)

The day after Christmas we put everyone on a train and the nervous tic in my eye started to go away.  Took a nap.  Woke up, rolled over, took another nap. Jason finally woke me up at dinnertime to inform me that we were Leaving.  Huh?  Leaving?  Where? To New York City, silly, for a surprise birthday trip!

We stayed here. We ate here. We saw this. And we shopped.  Don’t bother going to the Sisley on Fifth Avenue, people, ‘cuz I got everything. 50% off. 50freakingpercentoff. All in all? Good, good times, except for the knife vs. finger bit.

Tomorrow: More Christmas merriment, or how my life was not complete until the day I was given Care Bears days-of-the-week thongs.


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