It’s Christmas and You Should be Drinking Breakfast Egg Nog Instead of Reading This

Or, you know, hanging out with family and sharing love and joy and all. Whatever floats your boat.

But since you’re here anyway, you diligent blog-checker you, I will reward you with a picture of me in my Christmas jammies:

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtlres!

Happy Holidays, Internet. It’s not even a selfie. It’s just a really dumb-looking picture of me JUST FOR YOU.
And yes, those are Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Jammies. Because my family loves me.

Now go away and love your family. Even if you don’t celebrate Christmas, today is a super good day for hugs and morning booze.

Merry Christmas, y’all. I’ll be in the present fort.


This is my present fort. Go away.

Happy Holi-oh, Crap. I’m Already Late

I’m very busy and important*, so I simply do not have time to be amusing** today.

*Running late to Christmas Eve lunch at my Grandma’s house. 
**Am totally having a holiday-induced panic attack.

So here is a picture of a very sad box.***


Produce Box is really sad to meet you.
Produce Box is kind of a jerk.

***Dramatic shadows included, FREE! You’re welcome.

I get my produce**** magically delivered to me. And I recently discovered that this box is very, very sad. All the time. Because I have anthropomorphic personification problems.

****Fancy bread and locally made sugar products. But it comes in a produce box, so it’s healthy, right?

Merry Christmas Eve, y’all. I hope all your holiday boxes are glad to make your acquaintance.

The Post Office in My City Is a Magical Place

Hey guys. Don’t freak out or anything, but I just found the coolest place in the Queen City. 

Google Maps knows all the places

Please try to contain your excitement.
Image courtesy of Google Maps. Thanks, Google!

And it’s my local post office.

You may be wondering how this could possibly be. Everyone* knows that the post office is a circle of hell around the holidays – especially if you live in a city.

*All the people I mention my love of the post office to. Which actually IS everyone.

And I do, in fact, live in a city.

Real. City.

See? Big buildings = real city. Point proven.
This image is also thanks to Google Maps, which has way more geographical knowledge than I do.

See? See? There are cars. One of them is a taxi.** Just out of this shot is a wad of police cars, proving we have city-like crime. And we have a bustling metropolitan area with traffic and annoyingly complex parking structures.

**To be honest, this is actually the only taxi I have ever seen in my city. The South does not believe in taxis. 

But just forget all that when it’s time to go to the post office.***

***Unless you actually live in Uptown****, in which case, you are super screwed. Have fun waiting in line forever, suckers.
****Which is what the Queen City calls our downtown, because we’re all clearly out of our minds.*****
*****Also because our downtown is the highest geographical point in the whole city, which I hate knowing, because it takes all the fun out of the fact that we’re clearly out of our minds.

When it’s time to go to the post office, you’re going to travel through time and space and into a strange land. A land where rednecks are probably going to murder you to the Deliverance soundtrack, and people are totally selling boiled peanuts on the side of the road before Christmas.******

******Apparently this is a totally normal thing. I asked the guy. His name is Jim. I did not take his picture in case he was barely containing his Deliverance-murder instincts. 

Mmm...gun pie.

This is what is directly across the street from my nearest post office. This is clearly the liveliest part of this neighborhood.
Also, thanks again, Google Maps!

I even took a picture of my own to prove that my post office is not somehow just trapped on a strange country-town street. It’s literally an entire neighborhood that does not belong in a city.


No tall buildings, as far as the eye can see.

So basically, my drive to the post office was surreal. Also, unnerving and terrifying.

But by golly, I had Christmas presents to mail. And they were going to get there BY Christmas, for once.******* And so I persevered through this disturbing land, and finally got to the post office.

*******Despite the impression I give of clearly having everything together, I am notorious for giving people Christmas presents in, like, February.

Where everyone was smiling an happy. The Friday before Christmas. The place oozed a sort of zen I have never seen. It was like going to the post office in Mayberry********

********Which is also in North Carolina, as it happens. Check it out, y’all.*********
*********This is the most terrifying place in all of NC, in my humble opinion. But that’s a story for another day. 

It was MAGIC, guys.

In other news, if your Christmas shopping isn’t done, allow me to recommend this:

Because a knife is too complicated

Specially designed to be the most useless gift in the history of time. You can click here and buy 10 on Amazon.

The perfect gift to convince everyone that you are the worst gift giver of all time. It’s my new favorite thing on Amazon.

Never Question My Commitment to Sparkle Motion

And by “Sparkle Motion,” I mean “my Christmas tree.”*

*What, do you not name your Christmas tree?

Sparkle Sparkle Twinkle

Sparkle Motion, Phase 1. Ignore the plastic base. This tree is totally real. I swear**.

**I’m lying.

For my whole life, my grandmother has maintained a tradition of giving every family member a hand-selected ornament. As a child, this was an eye-rolling pain – why get an ornament when wrapping paper should always contain a valuable toy? As an adult, I’m almost painfully grateful for this tradition. For one thing, I actually have a collection of ornaments to put on a tree. For another thing, most of those ornaments are so wildly unique that my Christmas tree is like no other.

Despite that glorious tradition, this is the first year in a very long time that I’ve had my own Christmas tree. Generally, I just sort of hurl lights all around my living space, call it festive, and eat cookies until Santa comes.*** This is a remarkably delightful life plan, but this year, I decided it was time to step up my game.

***Life Lesson 307: Always leave cookies for Santa. A story for another day.

So I rescued a box of ornaments from my parents’ house. A box that I was told was filled with ornaments that were mine. Only to discover that this was not quite true. Yes, many of the ornaments were mine.

But many of them were also my mother’s. 

Ever since my parents decided that fake trees were much easier**** than real trees, there’s been some fierce competition for space on their tree. This has led to some excess ornaments which sometimes are left neglected in the box. My mother has apparently solved this problem by giving me some of the more unique***** ornaments.

****Not full of spider eggs.
*****Ornaments I have hidden at random around her house, with malicious intent.

I thought it was a moose

Meet the BalletReindeerLabra. Perfect for lighting your home and dancing the Nutcracker

The mystical BalletReindeerLabra is a magical being****** that can bestow both candlelight and sugarplum fairy replacement on your holiday. She was gifted to my parents, but has perpetually been too heavy to live on the tree. Her strangely varied skills provoked endless smarmy storytelling from me over the years, which apparently makes her mine. Because my benevolent mother would hate to leave me uninspired, I’m sure. Thanks Mom.

******And actually a super expensive designer ornament, apparently.

She's blue because she's cold

The Christmas Mermaid combines both the fun of The Little Mermaid with the elaborate hair styling of Cinderella’s stepsisters. In your face, Disney.

Meet the Christmas Mermaid, a staple for Christmas trees on shipwrecks. She’s festive AND practical. Also, she’s blue because water is cold in December. Duh. She now lives on the toasty warm tree, pining for her frozen watery home*******. She’s my festive hostage, courtesy of my mother informing me that this was obviously my decoration, despite my memories to the contrary. Thanks, Mom.

*******To make her feel more comfortable, I put her next to my shark ornament. Do you not have a shark ornament? Oh, well, your grandmother must not be as cool as mine. Bummer.

And now we come to the greatest of them all.


Meet Santa fairy. He’s factually a fairy. He has wings. I swear. And delicate leggings. And pointy shoes.

Santa Fairy. Unlike the Sugar Plum Fairy, I confess: Santa Fairy kind of scares me. He has for years. Unlike the jolly fat elf of my childhood years, Santa Fairy has appeared “mysteriously” in random places around me ever since I confessed to my mother that he inexplicably scares the living daylights out of me.********

********I like to have really illogical fears. Besides, Lookit those eyebrows. Just LOOK at them.

He was in my ornament box. Because, you know, mothers want their kids to overcome their fears. Thanks, Mom. 

Christmas Dinosaurs

What, do you not have Christmas dinosaurs?
It’s like you don’t even celebrate the holidays.

All these ornaments********* (and so many more) have found a home on my tree, It’s the most unique tree in the world. I love it. Sometimes I am slightly scared of it, but the different ornaments are all memories, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Also, my tree has a fuzzy lion and a glittery flamingo. Does YOURS?

*********Except Santa Fairy. He is going RIGHT BACK where he came from.

Yeah. I didn’t think so. You’re going to have to step up your game, or I’m going to start questioning YOUR commitment to Sparkle Motion.

A Tragic Tale of Missed Opportunity

Remember when I told you I had weekend adventures? Well, I wasn’t lying. I went to a “Collectables and Antiques” show.*

*Hey hey hey, that kind of crass jealousy is uncalled for. I would have invited you if I’d known you wanted to go so bad.

And I stumbled right back into Regretsy territory when I found the single greatest, most flummoxing craft project known to man:

I totally didn't pose them like this.

I totally didn’t pose them like this, guys, but I really believe they’re doing a slow-motion chase scene for Jesus.

I’d like you to meet Buff and Spiff, the Steroid Angels of Christmas.**

**These may not be their actual names.

I found them on a table with a display of their compatriots:

I don't know what the front angel is doing.

Because fit Santas, buff angels, and ripped fiddle players BELONG together.

And I was speechless.*** I marveled at their strangely formed muscles, which were reminiscent of Tommy Wiseau in The Room****. I marveled at just how many of these decorations someone had taken the time to make. I marveled at who would put these in their home during the joyous time of the holidays.

***Ok, not speechless enough that I didn’t pick them up and invent stories about how they defended Christmas through the power of steroids and glue-on wings, but I did that all in my head, so TECHNICALLY I was still speechless.

****DO NOT GOOGLE THIS. Some things cannot be unseen.

And it was only after I’d walked away from the table that I realized that I would totally put them in my home during the joyous time of the holidays. And I would like to give them to all my friends.

So, obviously, I went back the next day.

Only to discover that the frustrated seller (who apparently had not sold a single ware, according to the seller with the table next to her) had decided not to return for the dismal Sunday sales. I was crushed.****

****I still am.

In my time of grief, I did what any rational girl would do. I turned to the Internet.

I’m going to be honest. I fully expected to find these on Etsy. I expected them to be on the front page, singled out for their amazingness. I mean, who wouldn’t want to deck their halls with the bulging pecs of plush angels?

Apparently it’s just me, y’all.

Because Etsy let me down. After hunting through 72 pages** of possible choices for “angel doll” and “Christmas angel,” I had to throw in the towel.

**Because I am super dedicated to giving everyone ripped angels for Christmas. I’m willing to sacrifice for my friends, y’all. Don’t you wish you were on my gift-giving list?

But I did find these precious gems.

1) The Nakedest, Flattest, Most Concerning Cherub

It's soo happy

That trumpet is _really_strategically placed.
Click for source.

In defense of this seller, this is apparently vintage. So, let’s all get concerned about our predecessors, people.

2) The Most Confused Angel Impostor

It looks so sad.

It’s probably so confused because it’s hanging by it’s head.
Click for source!

This angel appears to have been stricken by poverty, and hung up by her head. Someone buy this angel and get her a nice dress. And maybe a cheeseburger, And a bandaid.

3) The…Winkle

This really scares me

I don’t…I just…what….
Click for source?

I really want to say things about this, but I really just have no idea what to say. Other than I really, really hope that’s an elephant trunk.

4) The Gremlin in Disguise

On nom nom nom

Seriously. Don’t let it in the house, don’t get it wet, and don’t let it eat after midnight.
Click for source.

It smiles the same way after it eats your children.

So if you need me, I’ll be in mourning. But at least my Christmas shopping is done.