It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like -- Oh, Who Am I Kidding? No It's Not.

Here we are, another Christmas season in California and I cannot wrap my puny little mind around that fact. The grass outside is lush and green, there are still trees with plenty of leaves (red and gold leaves, yes, but full of leaves nonetheless) and not a snowflake in sight. The only way I know it's almost Christmas is because the CD that plays on endless loop at Banana Republic tells me so.

(Is it wrong that this is, quite possibly, my favorite Christmas song? For sure it's in the top five, along with this one, which I think captures my every Christmas need quite perfectly. But hey, no need to wait until Christmas -- you can get a jump on the list and start sending them for my birthday.)

So, it's a wee bit difficult to get motivated to do festive things like decorate the house or send cards or drink a whole bowl of eggnog by myself. I crafted my plan of attack for writing Christmas cards, finishing up my shopping, and getting all of it in the mail and safely to their destinations in plenty of time. But, you know what they say about best laid plans...(please tell me you do, because I don't. Something about mice and men and the Dust Bowl, maybe?)

Riiiiiight.

Today work decided that, rather than complete my holiday tasks in some sort of orderly, low-stress fashion, I should instead hop a plane and spend next week in DC.

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

Don't get me wrong, it's a good thing and I'm long overdue, but my To Do list just got a lot longer and the time in which to do it all got a lot shorter. Screw wrapping any presents, I'm just going to toss it all in a box and deal with it when I get to Wisconsin. And for the second year a row, I can do my Christmas cards at the airport. Heartfelt thoughts abound there, you know? But at least I get to spread glitter all over the place and somebody else is stuck cleaning it up! (Just like last year. Sorry, M.)

The good news is, I have many presents already purchased, mostly for my mom. (Dad and I have an arrangement: I shop, he writes me a check. In all fairness to him, I only shop for the clothes, he picks out the other stuff.)

Shopping for my mother is an interesting challenge. She doesn't spend a ton of money on clothes (actually, she doesn't spend a ton of money, period) and would probably curl up in the fetal position and cry if she ever saw some of my receipts. However, she actually likes nice stuff.

Mom: I really like that blue sweater you got me last year.
Me: The cardigan?
Mom: Yeah. It's so warm and soft!
Me: Mom, it's cashmere. It should be warm and soft.
Mom: Ohhh, that explains it.

So I have to balance my desire to buy something nice with her worry that we'll buy her something nice but outrageously priced. Which is how I ended up at J.C.Penney. Yes, really. I walked into the ladies clothing department and nearly spontaneously combusted, so surrounded by synthetic materials was I. But, I perservered and hopefully found something worth my efforts: a pair of jeans, which are non-mom-jeans enough for my taste and, I believe, comfortable enough for her taste. (All the clothes out there are for you young, skinny people. I can't wear those!) Now they just have to fit. And I will have to convince her that the wash doesn't highlight her non-existent ass. (Oh, won't Christmas morning be fun!)

Anyway, once I decided I could cut corners on all this Christmas-
related stuff by, oh, just not giving a crap anymore (which, really, I hate. I hate that I don't have time to lovingly write out lengthy Christmas cards and wrap beautiful presents and make gingerbread houses and whip up batches upon batches of cookies. I hate that these things have to take a back seat to the rest of my crazy life. But, I don't really have a choice. I can't make more time.) I remembered that my trip to DC will involve a very festive party that will require me to get all fancy-dressed-up for. [Mental note: pack a dress.] Fine and dandy, until I realized that means I'll have to do something with my HAIR. And holy crap, if my hair is not the most obstinate thing around when it comes to up-dos. I have made stylists cry with their inability to get my hair to stay in a french twist. How the hell am I supposed to manage this one on my own? And the thought of trying to book a salon appointment only a week in advance? They will LAUGH at me. So, um, ponytail it is! Yee-haw!

I will not freak out. I will not freak out. I will not freak out.

Oh yeah, and in the midst of all this, I have actual real work to do. Which I should probably make a higher priority than frosting snowman cookies, right?

Why yes, the majority of these bags ARE from Banana Republic!
You noticed that, too?