What Does Thanksgiving Mean to You?

Just kidding. I don't care.

So, I've decided to drastically scale back on the Christmas decorations this year (our day after Thanksgiving tradition is to decorate whilst eating our favorite junk food and drinking our favorite beer) in the interest of saving money and electricity. Our December electric bill is always the highest and for what? We aren't outside looking at our decorations. And we live in a cul-de-sac, so we have maybe three neighbors who might see them as they drive-by. Then my husband was like, you go so crazy making the interior of the house beautiful and you've had so much on your plate lately, so if you don't feel like doing it, don't.

On one hand, it would be nice to just put up a tree and a couple favorites and be done. On the other hand, it's Christmas . We've got a little guy and throw a Christmas party for all our friends. Shouldn't I transform the house into a winter wonderland? I probably won't be able to resist.

Surprisingly, I'm an extreme control freak with the decor. I take pictures of how the house should be done and place them in each tote with the coordinating decorations. I decorate the tree with antique Christmas balls that I've gathered over the years, snatching them up at flea markets and antique stores. Every time someone gives us an ornament, it goes elsewhere. (Sorry. But I have my plan and your gift doesn't fit.) My mom used to half-joke about what I would do when our son started bringing home all the junk the kids make in school to muck up your tree and my plan was that he could have a separate tree in his room that wouldn't disturb my perfection. Which my mom, who still hangs all our crap on her tree, thought was horrible.

I thought it was practical. But damn if those kids don't get you every time. mort and i were making paper chains that one could conceivably hang on a tree, and darn if I don't want to keep going with it and make it long enough to wrap around ours. My perfect tree, with a junky paper chain. And I actually really want it. I'm going to have a tacky-ass mom tree in no time. My mom will be so proud of me.

This year we're doing presents light. Mort gets two. We get none. And we're going to instead buy presents for a family that otherwise wouldn't have any and have Mort help pick them out. We have enough stuff. Mort has so many toys, it's crazy. And we need nothing. We have clothes and shelter. We have food to eat. We have money to heat our home. We have fresh water and cars and insurance. We have a healthy loving family. We have all of our parents. We are fortunate beyond belief. And not everyone is, through no fault of their own. I used to resell Mort's toys when he outgrew them. But do I really need that $25? So, I've started putting in new batteries and the instruction sheet and taking them to The Salvation Army because with all the broken, heavily used toys there, how awesome for a little kid to find a toy in perfect condition that already works?

So in a random change of subject, I finished this month's work for the magazine and I LOVED it. It was so not work. The pace was intense for a couple of days, but luckily, Duke was supportive and recognized I was on a deadline and picked-up the slack. He even thinks I should blow my paycheck on something completely frivolous and extravagant (like the obscenely expensive designer bags I secretly covet but never ever ever ever would buy) to celebrate a job I loved and did well at; but I just don't think I could do it. I'd feel too guilty. It was exactly what I love to do. My boss seemed happy with the job I did. I hope to keep getting called back every month. It was so great to use my skills and my brain and fit all the words together and take a jumble and make it an article.

I got my hair cut. Not too much off the length, but heavily layered. I think with the new color and bangs, it looks much healthier and like an actual hairstyle instead of just big thick long Cousin It hair. Which is what happens when I let my hair go a year without scissors. It's a conundrum. I love my hair to be as long as possible. But it's very very thick and coarse. So it gets a bit overwhelming. And then the trauma of going from blonde to black to red to black to dark auburn really didn't do much for my already damaged locks. Anyway.

Psyched to see the relatives tomorrow.