Holiday Letter

Dear Friends and Family!

Greetings to each and every one of you! I hope this finds you all well and happy! And drunk! Let me tell you, it's been one fuck of a year!

For Christmas this year my husband sent in an application for the one-way Mars trip! Can you beat that? I can! Under "Applicant's Name," he put mine! In case I'm rejected, he has another one filled out under his name! He left a copy of the application under the tree inside one of those tall skinny gift bags designed for bottles! He knew I'd open that one first!

What a guy! I was touched! But as many of you know, I've been touched since I was a teenager! In more ways than one! As many of you know!

Speaking of teenagers, you'll be happy to know they finally let ours out! It's been quite a time, believe you me, but the lobotomy seems to have worked! And I only have a tiny scar, which my bangs keep well hidden! Will wonders never cease?

No, they won't! I keep wondering what will happen next, and then Michele Bachmann runs for President! I kid you not, this isn't some "Saturday Night Live" sketch! I wish I knew that broad's pharmacist! But hey, I'd run for President, too, if I thought I could catch him! What a doll! The Other Michelle is one lucky stiff!

Speaking of stiff, I could use a stiff...mummy! Had you fooled there for a second, didn't I? It's true! Someone I used to know ended up driving around California for nine months in a mummified condition! And I'm not speaking metaphorically! Obviously someone else did the driving, but it's all hush-hush, so mum(my)'s the word! Ha-ha!

Speaking of funny, in honor of our daughter's stay at the funny farm, we had a party! It started last July, when she first went in, and lasted six months! Now that she's out, it's back to business as usual! More partying!

On another note, the job's going great! I passed the drug test with flying colors! Will wonders never cease? My husband thinks the lab results got mixed up, but who's keeping track? When life gives you lemonade, drink it!

Speaking of which, I'll drink to that! Sorry this letter is a wee bit late, but it took me awhile to chew through the restraints! Ha-ha!

But seriously, folks, I hope the New Year brings you everything your little hearts desire! Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Which is exactly what I'm planning to do, when that package from California arrives! Until then...

World Peace! Greenpeace! Peace and Love! Proposition 19!

Friends 4-Ever!
sixspruce!

One Hundred and Forty-one Post-its93—141

BACKUP PLAN

It was the evening of the twenty-fourth and she was a wreck, or maybe it was a skag.

"'To save us all from Santa's power...'" she caroled, swilling wine, "and who the hell is Mogen David anyway?"

Earlier that same day, or maybe it was fifty years ago, she'd stopped by Red Owl and Piggly Wiggly but they didn't carry Beatle boots, or maybe it was Kickerinos. It had to do with the number of Johnsons in the New York phone book.

"What would Larry do?" she asked the 97-pound weakling behind the counter, who told her to send ten boxtops to Battle Creek, Michigan.

But when the One Hundred Dolls from Around the World arrived, it was Loss of Innocence all over again. Now she had a shoeboxful of inch high pink plastic gumball machine doodads, and nothing to show for it.

She was about to call the nearest Beauty Counselor, or maybe it was Fuller Brush, when the doorbell rang. It was Jehovah's Witness selling Mary Kay, or maybe it was Shaklee.

"Do you carry gaga pants?" she inquired. "Or is it yoga?"

They warned her not to get ahead of herself and suggested Colgate Dental Cream with Gardol. She spiked it with a golden drop of Retsyn and headed for the nearest moviehouse, where she met her first, or maybe it was her third, husband. He was Aries, she was Taurus, it was a mixed marriage.

"How many times have you seen 'Harold and Maude'?" she asked the third, or maybe it was the first, husband, who remained oblivious as ever, his head in the cloud.

Meanwhile it was the evening of the twenty-fourth, and she was making a list.

"All I want for Christmas is a Clad-Easy," she wrote, checking it twice, and the voices told her the message would be saved for one hundred, or maybe it was seven, days.

ALL THE MAILBOXES WERE PEOPLE

A tornado hit the double-wide so she and the He-Man went to Walmart. While waiting at checkout, she read the headlines:

"Woman with beer can in hand starts brawl at wake!"

"Woman calls 911 over lack of shrimp in fried rice!"

"Woman found partially frozen to pavement!"

She wondered if it was all the same woman and asked the French girl, Unique, for advice.

"In 'Brokeback Mountain'," Unique advised, "they were only gay when they went on vacation."

She took this into Consideration and decided to skip town. When she arrived in Consideration, she unpacked.

"Earplugs, pot and a wig," she noted, calling room service, "what else does a girl need."

On TV they were showing a rerun of "Life with Larry." On another channel it was "Sewing with Nancy."

"What the fuck is wrong with your face?" she demanded of Nancy, who remained inscrutable as ever, a living reminder.

When the phone rang, it was the He-Man.

"Where were you during the Harmonic Convergence?" the He-Man asked. "And what about the Singularity?"

"I love the smell of geraniums in the morning," she answered, "but don't forget the seventies were lower case."

When room service arrived she squeezed the red dye into the margarine packet. She eyed the bowl of Veg-All, but ate all the fortune cookies first. This was, after all, Consideration. She rolled a joint then rolled the mini bar up next to the bed then rolled the TV closer. Thanks to the aging process Jessica Lange was morphing back into a Finlander.

"In the end," she sighed, reaching for the last fortune cookie, "it's just one big metaphor after another."