Why the holidays don't make me lonely

Since I haven't worked long in this department, a lot of people have tried to make small talk by asking me about my holiday plans.  

Since the response "I don't have any plans" seemed to worry them a bit, I've toned it down by saying "not much, visit the family, eat too much" and similar.

My family doesn't make a big deal out of the holidays. I'm the only sibling who works office hours, so there's a good chance we will end up attempting to gather on a day that isn't December 25. And my mother hates cooking so we usually go out for dinner. Maybe one day I'll show up a day in advance and cook a proper starch fest, but not this year. In the meantime, I'll do what I usually do for recreation: hope for motorcycle-friendly weather and perhaps start painting another room of Chez Melina.

The afore-mentioned overeating has already begun in earnest.  Sneaky vendors managed to skirt the Snoopy Borg's gift restrictions and my boss' office is loaded with Godiva chocolate.

But this is one reason I don't mind not seeing the married boyfriends* during the holidays, especially as I'm fairly sure they're eating too much - and putting on a few pounds - as well. (Not that I mind; I prefer solid men.) And the cold weather has conveniently turned down my libido's thermostat.

If truth be told, this last occurrence is kind of worrisome. My level of interest in sex usually depends much more on whether there's a suitable male nearby. You know, the boring cerebral approach. The time of the year never really mattered.

But nowadays I'm content to crawl under the Australian duvet earlier than usual, with no more than a book or a laptop to console me. I've even let Richard the cat into the bedroom now and then, who acts as if he's been granted an audience with the Pope. I just wish he didn't drool on me when snuggling.

* See Key to Characters at right.

The charge of the light brigade

Although some holiday traditions annoy the hell out of me - like being forced to listen to Jingle Bell Rock when buying groceries, and my inability to visit Northpark during most of December - I am not a total grinch. 

I like eggnog, and real Christmas trees, and sending my mother the annual Teleflora Thomas Kinkade arrangement. She gets a little house that lights up along with her flowers, and each year they're different.  I did my volunteer gig at Petsmart and took lots of pictures of dogs, and the dogs' owners liked the pictures. I put last year's Dexter wreath on my front door.  And I drove around Highland Park a couple of nights ago to check out the rich people's Christmas lights.

I had seriously considered taking my motorcycle around Highland Park, but after I thought about it a minute, I realized that I had literally never seen anyone ride a motorcycle there. Ever. So I took my car.

The picture is of Highland Park Village. Allegedly, it's the first Real Shopping Mall, built in 1931. I confess I like going to the Anthropologie store there, although I'm usually the only 40-something within a herd of hard-shopping, ugg-boot wearing, blonde SMU students.

Does anyone know how long it takes to put so many lights on a single tree?

How I spent my winter vacation

Edited for embarrassing typos Dec 8.

Three days off isn't much of a vacation but I still wasted some time doing some of my favorite things. In addition to some book reading, socializing and house painting, I managed these.

Bikering:  I went to Austin and rode Ryan's Suzuki while he rode his rather serious BMW K1200. Since it wasn't my motorcycle, I rode very conservatively. No flooring it down MOPAC at 90 mph; in fact, I don't think I went over 60. I don't know what I was worried about, especially since he's already managed to drop it once. But I was tad surprised when we dropped by the Triumph/BMW motorcycle dealership, as Ryan* described the Suzuki as "a bike I got for my girlfriend". Perhaps I just don't explain myself well to the opposite sex.

Birdwatching: I got lucky while raking leaves at Chez Melina yesterday. A yellow-bellied sapsucker was beavering away on what looked like a nest, drilling a hole in my neighbor's hated chinaberry tree.  (I spent half my time sweeping chinaberries out of my driveway, hence my hatred.) I was under the impression that these birds just visit this part of Texas for the winter, so I couldn't help but wonder why this one was building a DIY condo.

I didn't take this picture (I need to get a camera with a mega-zoom). But when the bird was finished, this is what Maison Sapsucker looked like:

* See Key to Characters at right.

The fool-proof Christmas gift

Several years ago I discovered an online service that makes it nigh-impossible to screw up gift choices. Originally, all you needed was a photo of someone or something the recipient held dear to his/her heart - children and pets were safe choices - and you could have them made into postage stamps. Like these.

Nowadays it's even easier. I was about to order some stamps for the cat rescue group I'm trying to wangle out of (it's like trying to get out of the Mafia), and I noticed that some places offer their own artwork.

This Web page has links to four suppliers of custom stamps. I prefer Zazzle.

Sorry, Methodist friends

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