I love me some holiday cards. I torture my family by forcing them to take a photo for one every year, because, please, if there's no photo? Don't bother. I don't care about your well wishes penned on some generic seasonal greeting card. That shit doesn't even make the display; it goes straight into the trash. No, I need to see photos of your kids, and preferably you as well. Feel free to include the pets, although personally I think that's totally queer (of course, I included my house one year. That's right, a picture of the house, just sitting there. So who the fuck am I to judge?). I love getting the cards, and put them on the mantel as soon as they arrive in the mail:
It's seriously one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, maybe because it's some kind of proof that there are people out there who know I exist. Or at least have my mailing address and like Ted enough to keep us on their list. But the madness doesn't stop with the mantel display. I keep all the cards each year, and paste them into a book:
This is all very Martha Stewart of me, I am aware, but I don't care. And you know, people like looking through the books when they come over, even if they don't know 90% of the people in the pictures. It's still fascinating. Like looking at someone's high school yearbook - always interesting, for some reason. What about you? What do you do with the photos? Chuck 'em all in the garbage (except mine which you frame and hang in your bedroom)?
Well, it's off to bed soon as tomorrow has a packed schedule, what with taking the tree down, playing some Tailgate Toss, and cleaning up the shithole that is my living room after the brats tore through their gifts and then complained that the other one got better stuff. Charming. Oh, and by the way, we have no heat. Happy End-of-2011 to me!
XOXOXO
ABC
It's seriously one of my favorite parts of the holiday season, maybe because it's some kind of proof that there are people out there who know I exist. Or at least have my mailing address and like Ted enough to keep us on their list. But the madness doesn't stop with the mantel display. I keep all the cards each year, and paste them into a book:
Well, it's off to bed soon as tomorrow has a packed schedule, what with taking the tree down, playing some Tailgate Toss, and cleaning up the shithole that is my living room after the brats tore through their gifts and then complained that the other one got better stuff. Charming. Oh, and by the way, we have no heat. Happy End-of-2011 to me!
XOXOXO
ABC
