'tis the season

Shopping during the holidays present a bit of a challenge for me. No, it's not the crowds or all the strange people bumping into me, although I hate that. To my mind there is only one place on EARTH where that is acceptable behavior. Disneyland. And as much as I want it to be, Wal-Mart isn't Disneyland, so stop touching me!


My problem with holiday shopping is the stuff. All the lovely stuff. On sale. Calling to me. 


I walk into a store and the first thought my brain screams at me is BUY ALL THE THINGS! The second thought is BUY MORE OF ALL THE THINGS! Thoughts three through ten are much the same. Buy all the things, while my wallet whispers don't even think about it. But my wallet is so quiet and the displays are so LOUD. Even if I'm at Home Depot. And I'm definitely not a handy person, but that doesn't matter at the holidays. The perpetual season of hope promises that if I buy the things, the talent will come. Want to tile your bathroom? Buy that circular saw that's on sale and all will be well. That decorating project you've had in the back of your mind for a year? Well NOW is exactly the time you should spend $300 on it!


It makes me wish I didn't have such a strong moral compass when it comes to stealing. Think of all the things I could have if I had a more convoluted ethical mind. And I would have a code. Oh yes. A thieving code. I'd never steal from someone I knew. Unless your name is Erin Pickett and we were in the third grade together. Then I have a confession. It was me who stole your bunny-shaped eraser.


No, I'm not sorry. It was the third grade. And it was a Bunny. Shaped. Eraser. 


Enough said. 


But back to the stuff. The other 330 days of the year I have no problem ignoring their siren call. Then comes Black Friday and suddenly things that were too far out of reach have now been price-reduced to just barely out of bounds. What's a greedy little elf to do? And it's nearly impossible to avoid a store for more than a month, especially when they are there every time I turn on the computer. So I give in. Just a little. Then maybe just a bit more. And before I know it I've eaten the entire pie. 


Figuratively speaking.


Oh well, 'tis the season. Merry Christmas everyone.

an open letter to you

We never talk anymore. I can't even remember the last conversation we had that wasn't in person. That's been a long time. And it's my fault. I really dislike talking on the phone. It feels awkward. I'm a visual person and not being able to see your expressions and dramatic hand gestures puts me at a loss. Even as a teenager I had a hard time with the phone. What to say, what to bring to the conversation that hadn't already been said a hundred times before. After you've filled me in on your life, I feel stuck. What to say now? My life revolves around Penelope. Every story begins and ends with her. I don't have much more of myself to bring to the table. She is my whole day and how many cutesy stories can you take? As for me, do you really want to listen to how I had a horrible withdrawal reaction to one of my bipolar medications? Want to hear about how I have nightmares that I'll be recommitted to the psychiatric hospital and never let out? Or how we put up the Christmas tree and Penny seems physically incapable of keeping her hands off it? Wait. Sorry. That's a Penny story. Again. 

And that's really all the stories I have anymore.

But not liking to talk on the phone is a pitiful excuse. A pitiful excuse for not communicating and makes me a poor excuse for a friend. I miss your voice and hearing about you. And what about texting, emailing and Skype? In this day I could talk to you a hundred different ways without ever actually hearing a dial tone. So I'm sorry for failing you in this, for making excuses. Excuses are inexcusable. 

You are family as well as my friend. I shouldn't put my phone-talking deficiencies ahead of hearing about you. Because that's why I should be calling - to hear crazy stories from your life since we feel so far apart. It's a poor excuse for friendship and, again, I'm sorry. I promise I'll do better. 

Love you.