"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn

"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn
it's a jungle out there

Friday, December 24, 2010

Christmas Eve 2010

It SO doesn't feel like Christmas Eve

Christmas in our house growing up was a huge deal.
My mom went all out though she never appeared to enjoy it.
She always just looked stressed and aggravated.
At least that's how I remember it.


She loved to cook. I remember one December Saturday when I was maybe 9 our daddy took all 5 of us off somewhere. I think maybe to see the Rockettes at Radio City. She spent the whole day alone baking. It might have been the best day of her entire year. When we got home that evening, there were racks of cookies covering every surface of the kitchen and dining room.
Dark chocolate truffley things. Russian tea cakey things. Jelly filled things. Chocolate lacy things.

She made Christmas ornaments. Collected and spray painted pine cones. 12 drummers drumming out of clothespins. Lacy white crocheted snowflakes. I remember watching her stick them to the side of the box freezer in the basement, smeared with starch so they would dry stiff and hang flat on the tree. I remember us making felt Christmas Bells when I was 6 or 7 or 8. She had already taught me how to use a sewing machine. We cut the felt. We sewed them together. We glued the ric-rak. We punched holes and fixed colored grommets with some cool tool contraption she had.

We made the bells together. That kinda shit didn't happen very often.

She made us Christmas dresses every year. All 4 of us. We would go to the fabric store and pick out patterns and fabric and inevitably she'd be up till 3 am Christmas Eve eve finishing the last dress. Because on Christmas Eve dayshe started cooking. She'd pull together a menu from the December issues of Food and Wine and Bon Appetit and Gourmet. This was back in the day when it was almost impossible to find something like cardamom or fresh juniper berries. A crown roast or fresh oysters needed to be special ordered.

And the Midnight Christmas Eve service in our fancy Christmas Dresses.
Daddy and I sang in the choir we sucked
Candles. Incense. Heavily spiked eggnog.
What??? we were Episcopal

So. Not much Christmas Spirit around here. It's not my usual Grinchy-tude. I'm just not that into it this year. The kids put up the tree. I bought boxes ofprobably gross frozen finger foods at BJs to take to Sister Halona's for our Christmas Feast. Screw cooking. I voted we order in Chinese. Sister Halona almost excommunicated me after that.

The pict on my header? From last year. I got the lights up but they're not plugged in. A few blue balls are hanging. Maybe I'll get the rest up tomorrow yes tomorrow as in christmas

Jack looked out the window at the half decorated porch and said not to be criticistic mom, but you're like the last one to get your lights up.
Criticistic? Did you say criticistic? Is that a word?
It is now. I'm George Bush.
Fukin funny kid


I snuck out this evening to fill my new xanax prescription pharmacy closed get some feminine hygiene products damn peri-menopause and buy last minute candy for stocking stuffers.
I drove down Main St, looking at the lights and thinking about how un-christmasy I feel.
Filled up the van with gas and picked up my Friday night 6 of hard cranberry lemonade.
Mr Gas Station Man asked for my ID.

I loved that

ID? Of course! hee hee hee Handed over my license.
Puzzled look on Mr Gas Station Man's face. I chuckled

Is this you? Which is funny cause I look even younger on my ID

Yup. I pulled off my glasses and laughed. 47. Good genes

He smiled and said God Gives

I smiled back and said He Sure Does

The Universe is Abundant

Merry Fuckin Christmas


  1. Beautiful Michelle. I've just finished the last of the wrapping, no bows, just paper, taken my baby x med and stopped in to see how you were. This post has so many layers, flinging us about as if we are all on the peri-menopausal ride with you - oh wait, I am 47, I AM on this ride with you. You and I should write a book together. We come from such different places, yet find ourselves in the exact same place on a Christmas Eve in 2010.

    Merry Fuckin Christmas to you to babe. Who cares if all your blue balls are not hanging this year. With balls, volume really doesn't matter.

  2. ah Michelle, I love the way you tell a story. I adored hearing about your Mom and your childhood memories. No wonder you all are so creative. Made me think of Adrienne and her art.
    Don't worry about the blue balls and the lights.
    Go easy.
    I don't feel Christmasy either.
    Jack is a genius. I can't even pronounce his made up word.
    The ID thing, you are obviously a goddess.
    Merry Christmas buddy.

  3. I think it's an off-Christmas year for nearly everyone who has any shred of dignity left. I love you, Michelle and wish you a merry fucking Christmas right back.

  4. Yes! Merry Fucking Christmas! God, Michelle, I adore you.
    My friend Jack says that Episcopalians do not have Sunday night services because they are too drunk by then.
    (Maybe I'm Episcopalian? No. Probably not.)
    I hope that maybe a tiny bit of sweet miracle cut itself off from the herd and settled in your heart.
    Getting carded was itself a fine gift from an Abundant Universe.
    Sending all love...Mary

  5. Our family is somewhat Episcopalian, among other things.

    Of course you were carded.

    I love this post, and love you to bits.

    Merry Effing Christmas. xoxoxo

  6. funny, i don't remember eggnog, ever. wait...AT church, and sober father godly would be the one pouring WAY to much spirit into that creamy nastiness.

    and...with all do respect to zen mama, volume most certainly counts when it comes to blue balls.

    too much volume can turn a lady off balls forever.

    trust me, i speak from experience.

    off to find your ruby slipper post, with a stop in the bathroom for a roll of toilet paper.

    i never have proper tissues in my house.

  7. Beautiful Michelle, I love your words. I love your words, I love your colors, I love your you. Merry (Belated) Fucking Christmas indeed.

  8. the frozen fingers weren't bad...

  9. Awwww, I loved the pic of your kids!

    I'm so done with Christmas, too. Every year that passes, I get less and less enjoyment out of the whole darn thing. I can't wait until my kids figure out that there is no Santa. Maybe then we'll just take a nice vacation for Christmas - no decorating (and undecorating), no baking, no boring family dinners with folks we could care less about any way.

    Guess I got the Grinch-ies this year...

  10. Merry Fuckin Christmas right back at you Michelle. I hope 2011 treats you well. 2010 can go jump in a lake.

    (When four Episcopals gather together, there is always a 'fifth' - and it isn't Him" That gem is from my fiesty Gran, a good church-going Episcopalian all her life. Religion needs to come with perks, no?)

  11. i have just placed a "card of love" for allegra and barry on my blog.
    everyone is welcome to come and post a link to their post for allegra.

    a way to bring us all together in one place....with all our care.


  12. Hey dear sweet beautiful yogini grinch- I am thinking about you. You know where I am if you need me. Or just want to hang a drink a glass of (wine for me ugh) hard liquior for you (with me drooling a bit as I watch you drink it....my kingdom for tequilia!). Big blue balls or not- the kids had a beautiful christmas....one that they will blog about when they are 47 but look 24.
    crazy huge amounts of LOVE LOVE LOVE to you

  13. I have learned this year how to understand the feeling of disattachment. My mother in law was diagnosed with cancer on the 23rd. We are all cocooned at her house, and tomorrow we learn what we are dealing with. I am strangely grateful that I now have more compassion for those who suffer this time of year.

  14. Have I told you today that you are gorgeous in so many ways and that I'm better for the story you share?

    Well, now I have.

  15. I'm sure this first Christmas without a mom (your mom?) is one that comes with all kinds of funky emotions. Sounds like you are handling it as well as anyone could.

    Don't feel bad; my tree wasn't done until Christmas eve. On Christmas morning, Mr.4444 and I remembered (lying in bed) that we hadn't filled the stockings. Talk about a parenting fail--We had to make the kids stay in their rooms while we got our shit together.

    Happy Fucking New Year :)


so... wadaya think?

Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.