Laurel, my wife, has a friend with a deliciously cynical sense of humor. Every year Nancy, which may or may not be her real name, sends out "The Dreaded Christmas Newsletter."
And every year I rejoice when I read it.
It's always my favorite Christmas letter. Somehow I feel much better after reading her twisted outlook on life, than I do after perusing someone else's description of how much they enjoyed their overseas travels, visits with the grandkids, and the joy of growing older.
I guess it takes the pressure off when Nancy shows me the lighter side, which, strangely, also turns out to be the darker side.
Enjoy. (At least you will, if you share my sense of humor.) I may or may not have changed some names in her newsletter to protect the innocent guilty. It came a few days ago; that explains the altered title this year.
The Dreaded Christmas New Year's Newsletter
Yes, well... Happy whenever this does reach you. As the year closes, I look at my family and think, "We are hella cool!" I've started showing a pregnancy bump just like Jessica Simpson has. Mine is both front and back. As always, my height continues to be a challenge but my weight's fine!
With all the celebrities carrying 5-pound Yorkies around in a tote bag, my son Ethan has succumbed to the trend. It's hard to carry off both tats and a yipping Yorkie but he manages. Seriously -- I think he's in love. He called for the family recipe for Cranberry Pudding, which I fondly remember stealing from a restaurant I once worked at. He wants to impress her folks with it.
Lizbeth moved out and got her own apartment. She is now in her 7th year of college and is majoring in Literature, Spanish, Chemistry, Math and History. I visit every month to wipe away the chemistry experiments that have infested her apartment. Laundry continues to be a challenge as she finds that 83 pairs of underwear are still not enough to cover the semester.
My sister announced that this year was her 25th wedding anniversary. 25 years of sleeping with the same man -- wow! I once spent a year sleeping with 25 different men. Almost the same...
Everyone in my neighborhood has a house that is underwater. Looking back I realize what a wise move it was getting that 84-month car loan. My car is also underwater, which makes parking easier. And Occupy Dublin has begun! Our platform is demanding equal housing values with our upscale neighboring towns. We have all pitched tents in our front lawns, stopped taking showers and throw Hallmark cards at the police. It brings a tear to your eye.
I now teach piano to 137 students. Having discovered that reading piano music involves the simultaneous processing of completely disparate informational series, inter-related in a uniform manner that involves structural dependencies in a randomly predictable progression and, guaranteed to boost your GPA -- well, my business is booming!
Fido is well. The massive fangs in his under bite would suit him better if he would stop wagging his tail so much.
Still haven't had my identity stolen. Tried to auction it off on Ebay. A very nice gentleman from the Cayman Islands contacted me and we have started up a correspondence. He promises to totally change my financial profile. So in the meantime we remain at the same address and wish you all:
Merry Christmas and best of luck for the New Year!
Nancy, Ethan, Lizbeth (& Fido)