Daily Diatribes

I hate the holidays.  Have you figured that out yet??  The Christmas cards are pouring in, each family cuter and more photogenic than the last.  Well, except for Gina’s.   She looks like she’s about to axe murder her family in the picture!  I haven’t even sent out cards yet.  I probably won’t get around to it because I suck.  And what about the homemade gifts?Yesterday, who pulls up in my driveway, but Dr. Renee Medicine Woman, bearing a beautiful handmade gift.  It’s not enough that she’s a successful doctor.  It’s not enough that she is a skinny ass bitch.  No, she has to go ahead and top all that by making a lovely, hand stamped candle holder, complete with a tiny, good smelling votive, all ready to be lit.  Great; I was going to give her cheese.  How classy am I?  I love her gift, but the pressure is too much to bear, more than my Lexapro can handle.  Maybe I need to see her for a Xanax prescription!It’s not that I don’t want to make handmade gifts.  I have the genetic instincts to be Martha Stewart.  I simply lack the follow through and the actual necessary skills to make anything.  I can’t use a glue gun.  I don’t even own one.  And if I did, what on earth would I make???I’m not one of those people who saves my toenail clippings and bellybutton lint all through the year, waiting for the moment to use those scraps to churn out perfect replicas of the Mona Lisa on toilet paper rolls.  It’s just not in me.  I would like to use my own earwax to make you a set of tapers to grace your dining room table, but it ain’t happening.  Too freakin’ much work!!  How about some nice cheese instead?Nancy M. gave all of her friends a plastic chip and dip bowl and an oven mitt.  I gave her nothing because I am a good friend and don’t want to burden her with a good gift.  Cindy, however, had no class whatsoever and gifted Nancy with a beautiful, fluffy white robe.  What an even exchange that was:  plastic chip and dip vs. fluffy white robe.  You do the math!  Poor Nancy was devastated and there was nothing she could do.  Nothing except mumble thank you for the robe and slink off, vowing to buy Waterford chip and dips next year. So in the spirit of all that is good and pure about the season, I’m not giving you shit.  I’ve already told y’all I’m not baking cookies, candies, or constructing winter chalets out of graham crackers and icing.  You can check the handmade gift off the list too.  Frankly, anything my six  year old made would be better than what I could create.  However, if I am in the neighborhood, I will drop by with a gift of cheese and a generous dash of my searing wit.  What could be better than that?