So I stole this from Dean’s Facebook page and obediently filled it out last week, yes, I’m posting from work again, shut up. It’s dead today. Practically no one is here, and the few people that showed up aren’t in the mood for wurk. (Me included!)

SUMMARY :

JANUARY 2008
1. Who kissed you on New Years? Dave and Kim kissed me on the cheek… and somebody else licked me. Let’s call it two people.
2. Did you have a New Year’s resolution this year? Yes! I have several. They are all very mature and adult, except for the one where I resolve to fit 250 gummi worms in my mouth by August 1.
3. Does it snow where you live? It snows like a coke dealer with Parkinson’s.
4. Do you like hot chocolate? I guess it’s OK. I prefer Ovaltine. Made with evaporated milk, and with marshmallows on top.
5. Have you ever been to Times Square to watch the ball drop? No, but speaking of dropping balls, I heard a good one the other day. What do you get when you… oh, sorry. That’s in very poor taste.
6. Do you ski or snowboard? No. I like my limbs, tendons, bones, and eyeballs where they are, thanks.

FEBRUARY 2008
1. Who was your Valentine? I had an imaginary Valentine. Again.
2. When you were little did you buy Valentine’s for the whole class? Hells yes. Generally based heavily on whatever TV show I preferred at the time… I think everybody got TMNT Valentines for a couple of years. ‘Cowaaaaabunga! Will you be my Valentine, dude?’
3. Do you care if the groundhog sees its shadow or not? Yes. It is a matter of paramount importance to me.

MARCH 2008
1. Are you Irish? Y… well, no. But I have done about 200 Father Ted marathons and my favourite band is U2.
2. Do you wear green every year on St. Patrick’s Day? Yes. Too many years of being pinched in grade school.
3. What did you do for St. Patty’s Day in 2008? Can’t remember.
4. Are you happy when winter is pretty much over? Where was this thing written? Winter is nowhere near over in March.

APRIL 2008
1. Do you like the rain? No. I will tolerate snow but I hate rain.
2. Did you play an April fool’s joke on anyone this year? No, although some people found my continued unemployment kind of funny.
3. Do you get tons of candy on Easter? If by ‘get’ you mean ‘go down to the Sprague’s and buy a metric ass-load of Cadbury Mini-Eggs,’ then yes.
4. Do you celebrate 4/20? Er, no. Should I? Is that Hitler’s birthday or something?
5. Do you “love” the month of April? “No” it’s still too “cold.”

MAY 2008
1. What is your favorite flower? Peonies.
2. Finish the phrase “April showers”: Bring May SCREEEEEECH! Must get inside! Must get inside! I’m melting, mellllttiiiiiinnng!
3. Do you celebrate May 24th? Yes, actually; it’s my Dad’s birthday.
4. Is May anything special to you? My Dad’s, brother’s, and imaginary Valentine’s birthdays are in May!

JUNE 2008
1. What did you do for Fathers Day? Made him lug furniture around, I think. Then bought him dinner at Joey Tomato’s.
2. Did you do anything fun during this month? Moved from Calgary to Stabmonton. Wheee, what fun!
3. Have a favorite basketball team? Go Raptors! Rawr rawr rawr.

JULY 2008
1. What did you do on the 1st of July? Officially moved into my new apartment!
2. Did you go to the fireworks? No, I could barely move. They sounded very nice though.
3. Do you tan in the day? I prefer to tan under the light of the full moon.

AUGUST 2008
1. Did you do anything special at the end of your summer? Went to Vancouver to visit a Kim!
2. What was your favorite summer memory? How can I pick just one? I had a lot of fun at the Rainmaker Rodeo and K-Days though. Plus the Taste of Edmonton, Body Worlds, and Spamalot. And Kelly’s wedding! And Victoria with my mom.
3 .Did you have a sunburn? No. The last time I burned was at the closing ceremonies of the commonwealth games in 2000. Or 2001 or whenever that was.
4. Did you go to the pool a lot? No, although I really should; I’m one of nature’s floaters. So much flotation I have!

SEPTEMBER 2008
1. Will you be attending college/school? No TO THE MAXXXX. I’m so overeducated it hurts.
2. Do you like fall better than summer? No. The wasps get grouchy, the bums get pushy, the air gets chilly, students flood the streets like raw sewage. What’s to like?
3. Anything special about September to you? It’s got my birthday in it! Also, my soul-mate Keanu’s birthday. Also one of my best friend’s birthdays. Also, probably, some other people’s birthdays. And it had my first housewarming party in it this year!

OCTOBER 2008
1. What was your last Halloween costume? Michelangelo, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
2. What is your favorite candy? Ooh, tough call. I would have said Swedish Berries before I almost choked to death on one during the last James Bond movie. Maybe Dino-sours?
3. What is your favorite thing about this month? Halloween!

NOVEMBER 2008
1. Whose house do you go to for Thanksgiving? My parental units’, and Thanksgiving is in October, you ultra-maroon.
2. What is your favorite thing about November? The day off for Remembrance Day. No, seriously.

DECEMBER 2008
1. Do you celebrate Christmas? Yes, though I’m told I’m destroying the meaning of the season by celebrating the way I do.
2. What are you thankful for? A relative absence of disasters!
3. Have you ever been kissed under the mistletoe? Nope. Seriously, not once.
4. Get anything special last year? So by last year we mean 2007? Er, I think my big gift was a… a coat. Yeah, that was it.
5. What do you want for next year? So 2008? A dresser. Oddly enough, I’m tired of keeping my socks and underwear in boxes. Update of 31 Dec: I got one! And assembled it myself. And lost about a pint of blood in the process… but it’s dark brown so the stains won’t show.
6. What is your favorite thing about December? Mandarin oranges! I mean, getting to spend time with my family and friends whilst feeling the warm glow of the holiday season and eating discounted chocolates.

Here is a thing for which I am having difficulty finding words, so I am writing as swiftly as possible so as to not cloud things by trying.

We begin with an anecdote, some identifiers altered to protect their privacy: a friend of mine, an on-line friend, whom I have known for approximately two years, is getting a divorce. Her husband left her. On Christmas eve. In October he confessed to having had an affair of approximately fourteen months duration, which had slipped under her radar because he travels for work. They wept, embraced, he swore to give up the other woman for good, swore he would seek help for his depression, he was a changed man, they would attend couples therapy, their love would stand this test. Their pre-teen son, who has a neurological disorder, claims to understand his dad’s choices; I do not, in light of what happened next.

What happened next happened two days before Christmas. The husband slipped up, was caught calling the other woman on his cel in the garage. My friend sat in the car with him and asked him to please choose. The next morning I got an e-mail: her husband had agreed to end the affair. He’d chosen his family! Their home, their dog and ferrets, their kid. My friend was in tears of joy. It was the best Christmas present she could have imagined, she wrote.

Yesterday evening, another e-mail. I opened it this morning at work in cheerful anticipation, expecting news of the reconstruction, of their happy Christmas together. Instead I read that he had indeed called the other woman on the 24th, as requested, but had come back into the bedroom and said, “It’s over. I’m leaving.” And began to pack a suitcase. Confusion reigned: “You’re leaving… me? Us?” For it was so. “You can’t ask me to pick. That only means I love her more for not making me pick.” He took only the contents of his suitcase. “Are you coming back for the rest?” “No.” He even insisted on leaving his car; they waited an hour together in the living room for the cab he called.

My friend is an evocative and talented writer; I felt her grief, anger, and betrayal as she described sitting there in front of the TV waiting for the cab to come and end their marriage. There was no scene, no tears or accusations this time. That was around noon. Nani and Nana (on her side) were expected to arrive around three, driving in from just across the state line. My friend declined to describe the time that had passed between her e-mail and that terrible hour of waiting – how had she dealt with his sudden absence at Christmas? Explained it to her parents? What had their child thought? Did she pack up his stuff? I can only imagine. She merely asked me to send good vibes, since she knows I don’t pray.

I haven’t yet responded, though when she reads this she will know that I’m thinking about her, and what happened, with the greatest introspection and anxiety. That there is nothing I can say to express the depths of my concern, or my admiration for her grace and fortitude.

And so what has happened to her has changed something small but significant inside me, much like the death of a friend or the death of an ideal. My new year’s resolutions seem, well, petty now that I have been so rattled by her disaster. They seem silly, juvenile, untenable, in no position to better my life or my constitution. And they make it painfully clear that I am to a ridiculous degree sweating the small stuff, rather than putting any thought into the my own small and strange existence.

So, I wipe my long list of petty new year’s resolutions off the slate, delete them from my USB key with the racecar sticker on it. Instead I resolve to keep in closer touch with the people who mean the most to me, rather than sending them one-liners on Facebook. I resolve to lay off the things least hip to my wellbeing, both mental and physical. And I resolve to do my damndest to let the small annoyances in life roll off my back, since it is becoming increasingly obvious that there are bigger issues in the world and I may be better prepared to survive the traumas of life if I go in with the right mindset.

Who knows, maybe I’ll make less of a gong show of 2009 with a shorter list of resolutions, though they may be harder to keep. Any improvement over my lousy attitude in 2008, right?

(A fruitcake of holiday thoughts, wherein each point is a different fruit or nut, and the batter is the overriding theme of the Christmas season, and the rum is… rum.)

1. I just love this. And he’s on Twitter now! My parents never bothered with the Santa myth, I’d look under the tree and see an unlabelled present and be all “Oh, oh! Is that from Santa?” and my mother would swoop out of nowhere and go, “NO, it’s from your Auntie Liddy. The tag fell off.” But if I had kids, I’d ensure that they believed in Santa to an appropriate age and had their illusions appropriately shattered. I think it’s important – no, I do! – to a normal, healthy childhood with a normal measure of hope, belief, suspended incredulity, and societal standards. And this whole NORAD thing, genius.

2. Crazy White Girl’s cookies? PERFECT. Perfect beyond perfect. I’m so happy to have found a tard-proof recipe for ginger cookies (my favourite). I didn’t have enough butter, set the oven to the wrong temperature, used baking powder instead of baking soda, and accidentally left them out overnight, and they still ended up soft, dense, rich, and spicy. Like Nigella Lawson! But in cookie form. Unfortunately, my freezer is now stuffed with the things because a) the recipe makes quite a few, and b) I forgot that no one else in my family likes the taste of ginger. Boo-urns.

3. It’s been a funny year for everyone, the ‘global economic crisis,’ yada yada, and I feel a strange and real sense of shame over not being able to spend $200 per person or buy gifts for some of my more far-flung friends. But I’ve been watching ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’ practically nonstop for the past five days and that’s helping quite a bit, surprisingly. It’s like counter-propaganda. Remember when they’re all standing around the tree and the sun is coming up? “Somehow or another, it came… just the same.” If you’re in my boat, don’t feel bad about not going all-out for Christmas. You will still be loved if you haven’t stuck Tiffany diamonds under the tree.

4. I owe a lot of people a lot of e-mails, including you, Michael H. Kelly, but in the meantime, if your advance is running low, how about this? You’ve got till January 19th to apply, apparently. Don’t say I never did you no favours! (To non-MHK readers, click the link anyway. Ees funny.)

Everybody have a merry, warm, and safe Christmas! And if I hear about you drinking and driving, I will come to your house, wherever you are, and fuck you up. Are we clear?

Back me up here. One of the greatest things about the Christmas season is the oranges, am I right? Those adorable little orbs of delight! Always obliging with their lack of seeds, and a perfect addition, indeed substitute, to richer and more cloying holiday sweets.

But what can you do aside from eating a boxful of them approximately every three days for a month? Why, decorate, of course!

I found a post on how to make a candle out of a mandarin orange! (The author calls them ‘clementines,’ which reminds me of nothing so much as the Sesame Street character after which I was nicknamed as a child, Forgetful Jones. Remember him? He was always trying to sing ‘Oh My Darling Clementine’ but couldn’t remember her name. The nickname, incidentally, came to a head one day when I was getting ready to leave a friend’s birthday party and my mother said “Hey Jones! Don’t forget your jacket!” and everyone turned around in amazement: “I didn’t know your real name was Jones!”) (I digress again.)

I plan to try making this candle at a later date… I have a boxful of perfect mandarins, a sharp knife, and olive oil. What I don’t have is infinity-plus-one matches to get the wick to light. But, I’m headed to Safeway today to buy shortening and jam and maybe I’ll pick up a barbecue lighter. Stay tuned for results!

After literally years of decrying the fools and bigots who think that orientation is the be-all and end-all, I have made an orientation mistake so hilariously embarrassing that I am compelled to share it with the world.*

So, Von’s brother? He makes these papercraft toys called Blockheads, of which I purchased a pack at a craft show a couple of weeks ago.

They are awfully cute. Even the packaging is cute.

Here is the first one I completed, his name is Bokusu Kage:

The package comes with a blank template. So one can, if one is so inclined, make up to two more custom Blockheads (one on each side)! I opted for a dinosaur and got straight to work… a little too hastily, as it turns out.

Looks OK so far, right? See if you can spot what I did wrong.

“I can spot it, you bastard!” says the Blockosaur.

Oops. My bad.

Gosh, that looks uncomfortable.

And yet, he is so very ruined that it’s kind of funny and I can’t stop laughing. He just looks so mad now.

I am sorry, Blockosaur! Next time I will pay attention to where your body attaches. And in the meantime I will give orientation the respect it deserves.

* My seven or so readers.