A short list of some of the great things about Christmas:
1) a collection of ten species of carnivorous plants to grow in the kitchen window, courtesy of my mother-in-law, who has the preternatural talent of perfect gift-giving.
2) a gold hotel desk bell, also from afore-mentioned mother-in-law. You never know how many things are slam-the-bell-worthy until you have one of these things. New pot of coffee? Ding! Husband's smacktabulous ass going by? Ding! Kitten nearby and way too calm? Ding ding ding!
3) Sublime Stitching. This woman has single-handedly battled my winter break depression for three weeks. And does she even know it? No. But I have slightly pornographic kitchen towels now and plans for a Tupac tribute apron.
4) Avenging Unicorn action figure playset. My mother has a tradition of having a parallel universe gag Christmas right after the real one. We all load up on wine and exchange gifts mostly from this, the greatest toy store in all creation (despite its over-abundance of hipsters on any given day).
5) MONEY. Oh, Money, I've missed you. We parted ways quite a while ago, didn't we? What was our falling out about? Oh right, I was tired of taking it up the ass for you. But there you were in my Christmas gifts, peeking coyly out of an envelope and offering a truce: the promise of a drafting table. I hunger for the 36"x48" Alvin Workmaster Jr. with 35-degree incline and adjustable floor height, the figurative launch pad for my legion of creatures and stories. Come to me.
Side note, almost too embarassing to admit: I had a rather *intimate* dream last night about Ben Stiller. Weird, but weirder still is that it was Ben Stiller from "Dodgeball." And it was GREAT. Sadly, I have no change in medication or recent crack habit to which to attribute this.
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