Holiday Letter To Friends & Family

My spoof of the obligatory holiday letter to friends and family.

Happy WhatEverYouCelebrateThisTimeOfYear,

Ah, where should I start with the random musings and ramblings of my life captured in 2011?  I should start by stating that while I know you are anxiously waiting with baited breath, I am still living with me, myself and I  ---  and have not yet taken a lovah.   I’m sure you’re now beginning to question if I am secretly hoarding cats and slowly becoming the neighborhood crazy cat lady.  I can assure you I am not. 

January brought lots of snow and depressing days on lock down in the house given that people can’t drive in Texas when the roads are wet, cold.  Therefore, I consumed insurmountable loads of hot cacao and gained about 2 pounds hibernating.

February brought more cold weather, but this time I decided to begin my formal house hunting for a new abode.  I thought I found a great house and while it looked great from a far, people told me to run for the hills.  And so my dreams of buying my first house before spring were crushed.

March brought more house hunting and an offer on a house that didn’t go through.  More sobbing and complaining to God.

April brought another birthday and a reminder that I’m getting older and set in my ways.  Not to mention, I buy what I want and don’t have children begging me when I grocery shop for Capt’n Crunch or Fruit Loops.  Or to shop at that cheesy teeny-bopper girls store, Justice.

In May I finally made a purchase on a home that seemed the perfect size at the time and is now caving in on me.

June brought months of nesting and escaping the drought and heat, which left me delusional and feeling like I was about to hit menopause with the heat spells and night sweats.  Thank God I sleep alone in my bed.

July and August brought months of horrible online dating match-ups.  Being stood-up.  Being let down.  Being left mid-dinner with the tab and 8 ounces of shame.  I high-tailed it to Mexico to drown out my sorrows and upon boarding the flight back to the States I began to go into bouts of depression because who wants to leave the beach and fancy drinks handed to you by cabana boy for the treachery of work and client emails all day?

September leaves me wondering what I did and thus, a not very memorable month.  Oh wait, I got robbed and those fuckers took all my expensive stuff. 

October brought massive leaves falling in the front yard and hours spent in the yard trying to rake those bitches up.  Never-ending.  It also brought candy consumption like nobody’s business since the trick-or-treaters were lacking this year.

November brought dreams of turkeys and stuffing.  Neither of which I ate during that one gluttonous meal on the Big Day.  Turkey gives me the trots and stuffing is just soggy bread with seasoning.  Gross.

So here we sit in December and about the only exciting thing is is that work ends in approximately 8 hours and I’ll pick back up on January 2.  Took my old ass car in for an oil change and after it was all said and done it’s still running like a champ.  Dogs are good and even the foster dog is growing on me.

Gawd, my life is so exotic.  Sorry for the lack of pictures in this year’s holiday letter.  You see,  I’m horribly un-photogenic and my jeans are too tight and my dogs wouldn’t sit still long enough to take a photo.  And I don’t have kids to brag about and show off and not to mention, one of the beagles has incontinence and wears a diaper and who needs to put that in a picture?  Just makes me look like I prefer to dress up animals or something; which I don’t.  Just a necessity.

So to you I say, “Happy What Ever You Celebrate This Time of Year”.

Until Next Time,

American Bridget