Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Failure of the Day: Oy, Humbug

Yes, I’ve redecorated a bit. I’ve been at this blog for going on two years now and it seemed like it was time. I’m especially pleased with the Cripple of Justice, my own personal avatar; design one for yourself here.

So, the holidays. I hate them of course. I hate them every bit as much as Chris luuvs them. Thanksgiving here was lovely; just the two of us and a day off from caring about carbs. We cooked, played Stratego, and I ate and entire Baskin Robbins ice cream cake. I was only intermittently in any kind of funk, which is better than usual, and truth be told, it gets better every year that no one I care about dies on Thanksgiving. The bar is pretty low on that one; if everyone I know gets out alive, I’ll call it a success.

And then comes black Friday, I term I heard for the first time this week because my co-workers bandied it about in relation to the price of hard drives at Comp USA. It’s never occurred to me to shop on the day after Thanksgiving because, what am I, stupid? that I should volunteer for that madness? And although the deals advertised on the black Friday websites were pretty damn incredible, it struck me early Friday morning that what I really needed to do was get some orangey highlights put in my hair. Which I did, and they’re real purty.

All in all, though, I have to say, the holidays so far are going pretty well. Houghton Mifflin issued each of us a $20 gift certificate (that I hope is not our xmas bonus but very well might be) that we could use in conjunction with our 50% employee discount to buy Houghton Mifflin books. Being the smart shopper that I am, I managed to get three books for that $40, which is no mean feat, I’m telling you. Their big sellers right now are the new Philip Roth book, which I’ve already read, and The Polar Express, which Chris already owns, so I had to dig pretty deep in the catalogue. It was tempting to get the individual collections of Anne Sexton’s poetry, especially Transformations with the Kurt Vonnegut introduction, but I own them already, even though they are as well worn as an old family bible. Don’t even get me started on how thrilled I am to be working for Anne Sexton’s publishing company, even just a recently acquired division of it.

And now I’m feeling more or less geared up for 29 days of uninterrupted xmas overload. There’s apparently some sort of xmas train thing that travels from Sunol to Fremont, and god only knows what it is, but we’re going on Sunday with the rest of Chris’s family. Next weekend is chock full of family functions as well. Those Roses are festive, festive people. They are stuffed with sincere cheer and good tidings; and that’s on top of how kind and thoughtful they are just as a matter of course…I tell you, it’s unnerving.


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