Hello, Failure

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

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Failure of the Day: It

Chris was a little slow to come to boil this year, but he’s rapidly bubbling now. We zip from place to place in our Vince Guaraldi-mobile and I’m 100% certain that he would be wearing one of those ties with blinking lights on it if he ever had occasion to wear a tie.

We went with his parents to see the Nutcracker earlier in the month, which I must have seen at some point before in my life, but I’ll be damned if I remembered even a single thing about it. I seriously did not even recall that it is a ballet… about a girl who gets a gift so dull that she immediately falls asleep and then is attacked by mice. Which seems like something I would have remembered, but who can say? I did enjoy that the lone adult male dancer in the company wore a pair of tights so utterly transparent that there could be no doubt that wasn’t Jewish. (Get it? A foreskin joke! God bless us, every one!) But I suppose that’s been my complaint about xmas all along... it’s so darn gentile!

There’s also been a parade of holiday events at work, which, while not quite parties, all included free food and booze, and I for the life of me can’t find anything to complain about there. In addition, at large companies, the holidays mean lots and lots of gift baskets from clients and partners and such, so I am up to my eyeballs in mini cheese wheels and a whole array of oddly flavored bread loaves.

And so, our shopping is done and our pressies are wrapped and our cards are mailed and our family-sized turkey is ordered—in 6 days we will turn our oven on for the first time since—no lie—last xmas. This weekend Chris will read me Holidays on Ice as per our tradition, and I will yet again try to explain the funny bits in The Hebrew Hammer and then we’ll cook and eat and roll around on the floor rubbing our bellies, and that will be that: 2006 in more or less a nutshell. Happy it.