Holy hell.
It was really great seeing you this week SC. It felt grounding in a way. Like right before I went home for Christmas I just had this huge ball of nervous energy sitting right under my chin. And it sort of melted with the usual weird family jokes, with the perforation of the smell of woodsmoke and with my Dad's semi-bemused complaints of times when he had to interact with other human beings.
Danielle is gone to this place on the Lower Mainland, where she is from. Everyone she knows seems to have a vaguely punk-rock past. Some of them even lived at this place called the Dick Farm, which I am infinitely curious about. Her friends have semi-professional job titles but their first names are straight out of 1960s sci-fi movies staring a couple of slick dudes. She went to stay with her best friend for New Years, who has a couple of dachshunds and a boyfriend who exists as a bag of sand with a hole in it.
I am supposed to be hosting New Years tomorrow night. But I kind of would rather just get drunk and watch movies with Tyson and Deimena. Even though I know that every stick of their furniture has been sat on naked.
I'm going to do a top seven list of useless news items, a la Laura V. Because I exist to flatter her through shameless copying.
1. My dad's magnolia tree- Edith, under whom is buried the ashes of my grandmother- is finally kicking back to life after being flattened by snow last winter.
2. We still call Christmas dessert "that banana shit." Actually banana torte made by the one and only J. Delaney, the name was re-invented by one of the eloquent teen boys that I happen to spend every holiday with.
3.Climbed a very tall hill with my family and near the top my mom complained endlessly that she was going to die, and to go on without her.
4. The boss man is going through a midlife crisis, so say the office gossips. All I know is that he just got a divorce and a Harley and is oh so happy. So I don't see what the issue is. Even if he is the one person I could see turning out to be a serial killer. He never fucking blinks.
5. Wrote my first fan letter to a podcast I listen to. Based out of Portland, its just basically music but every once in a while they go off on tangents. So long story short, now whenever Canada is mentioned they will throw my name in. Like today they were trying to conjugate Canadian politics and eventually they throw down: "Well that was for Emma."
Hello, yes?
6. Apparently Polar Bear swimming is being revived this year. We say that every year though.
7. My bro subscribed me to Mcsweeneys for the coming year. Wooooooooooo
