Wee, Three Kings
Okay, I got NARY a wink of sleep last night, and I’m feeling a teensy bit squirrelly as a result. The wind is spewing tremendous chunky gusts every fifteen minutes, which is thrilling because I love wind, but it’s bitterly cold. I don’t like being cold. I get bitter. And it paralyzes me from doing the chores, which you’d think would be a plus, but sadly, it’s divisive instead.
I’ve been reading Bette Davis’s 1962 autobiography, The Lonely Life, and honey, she’s hilarious. What a tartan. What a gal. It doesn’t seem quite as funny plucked out of context, but trust me when I say I laughed out loud when I read this: “I should have been spanked until I stood in firm peaks.” Imagine one bon mot atop another, and so on and so on, and 254 pages later you’ll have imagined the entire book. Go on, I’ll wait.
While I’m waiting, I want to mention to those readers who aren’t already Heather Anne regulars - all one of you - that if you head on over to her site you will see, with your own eyes, a magnificent idea for giving Christmas presents this year. She’s so amazing, isn’t she, our Heather Anne? I love her so. There’s nobody like her. I told her once that she was the closest thing to Jesus I’d ever met, and she just did her famous shoulder shrug, rolled her eyes, and said, “Whatever.” She’s AWESOME.
You done? Now that you’ve imagined the entire Bette Davis autobiography for yourself, I want to tell you that this year, our tree is the prettiest ever, and all because I haphazardly clumped hard-won gold lights all over it. And I tied strands of shiny colored ribbons left over from my bookmark-making days on the branches. Everything on it is shiny. Shiny shiny shiny. Wait. Can I enjoy my shiny Christmas tree, and STILL buy a goat for a family in Kenya? Sure. Life is full of yon paradoxes and shadows, which is what makes it so rich. I hope your day is full of songs of niceness, too. And sleep, if you need it. kisses all! xo
Important, vital addendum which I forgot until just this second: Clickmom tagged me a few days ago to write down six of my weirdnesses for your viewing pleasure, but - because I’ve already written a full post - I’ll only give you one today. I’ll probably sprinkle them around here and there throughout subsequent posts, although really, like you’ll even notice, as I’m prone to reveal at least one weirdness o’ mine every time I write to you. Anyway, here’s my first formal unweirding:
1) I enjoy the smell of my own armpits.
December 4th, 2006 09:56
I wholeheartedly second the “Heather Anne is the best” sentiment.
It is true. Though Kelly Welly is pretty smelly…Err, I mean fabulous.
December 4th, 2006 10:21
See, I thought you said, “Imagine one bon bon atop another.” And I was like, “YEAH!” But then I realized you didn’t say bon bon, so I had to go look up bon mot. I always have to look up stuff on your blog. You so smart. And I love you. Good day, madam. (I got my Christmas tree up yesterday. It looks super good, too. I’ll send you a picture.)
December 4th, 2006 11:00
And now I’m picturing Mary Katherine Gallagher, cause you know, when she gets nervous? She puts her hands in her armpits? And she smells ‘em like this! Wow. I watch too much tv.
December 4th, 2006 11:25
I want to see your Christmas tree. I can’t really picture it. Okay, so so far I don’t think you are weird. You are going to have to do better than that.
December 4th, 2006 11:51
Curious … I love the smell of Heather Anne’s armpits. (Damn! I should have saved that for Monday’s Confession.)
December 4th, 2006 13:24
Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, Kel.
I can say that because I had a real live Irishman over for dinner on Saturday. And he brought me chocolate from the UK. And I know you’re jealous.
He had the pale-est skin of anyone I’ve ever seen. Really. He was ghostly ghastly white. But he’s a nice boy.
Sorry you didn’t catch many winks last night. I slept like a log and still cannot seem to wake up.
I think I’d better go eat chocolate.
December 4th, 2006 20:03
Kelly, package is going out Tuesday AM
December 4th, 2006 23:43
That was a bit too much information…just when I was starting to enjoy your blog you go and spring the armpit confession. I was shocked, SHocked! I am hoping there are no booger confessions, I am not sure I can handle it.
December 5th, 2006 01:15
Okay, Jennie beat me to it. You are totally my Superstah. And I hope you are feeling oh-so-much-better after your nasty code.
Hugs!
December 5th, 2006 01:17
Oh, and what’s this about a “star cursor?” If I am supposed to see my cursor magically transform on your site, it is not visible in Mozilla Firefox. (Everyone should program for Mozilla, because it rocks.)
December 5th, 2006 06:43
Pre or post deodorant?
Oh the questions the blogging world elicits.