“Remember, the greatest gift is not found in a store
nor under a tree,
but in the hearts of true friends.”
- A complete loser

I know I said I wanted a puppy.  And I do, still.  But maybe this isn’t the time for a puppy.

Instead, things I DO want for Christmas:

• a bathtub caddy that holds a wine glass
• a dog leash that walks two dogs at the same time
• a pair of New Balances
• drawer pulls in the kitchen and bathroom
• a dishwasher
• new bedroom furniture
• pearl earrings (these can TOTALLY be fake)
• a massage
• date to Surin
• an iPod holder that doubles as an armband
• a bathroom scale
• a vacuum sealer for wine bottles

And, of course, a puppy.

(We’re driving down the road, post Galaxy-of-Lights,
and as always, Bryan’s hand is on my thigh.
The Boy is in the backseat, humming something.)
The Boy: I like the black men.
(Bryan’s grip on my thigh tightens.)
Me: … what now?
The Boy: The black men.  I really like them.
(Bryan gives me that “We knew this would come someday” look
and I immediately start planning this discussion.
Dr. Martin Luther King?
How people aren’t colors?
No, Sneetches.  Go with the Sneetches.)
Me: Well, you know.. I like black men, too.  But..
The Boy: I like when he delivered that baby alien.
Bryan: OHMYGOD, you mean the Men in Black?!
The Boy: Yeah, Men in Black.  I like them.

I am getting old.

I’ve been trying to ignore it, but it’s official.  I am old.  And my body is starting to rebel.  For instance, my breasts are angry.  I remember sitting on the couch at my parent’s house some odd weeks ago and my mother looking at me for awhile.  Finally, she exclaimed, “Sarah, your ta-tas are huge!”  They are.  And they’re angry.  I thought I was just exaggerating their abundance before, but today I’m wearing a wrap shirt that I’ve had for years, and it feels like I’ve bound my chest.

Another example?  The mile trek into work, which I’ve walked every morning and afternoon for going on three years now, is suddenly leaving me breathless.  So I’m forcing myself to walk at night with the dogs so that I can feel better.

OH!  And sleeping, which used to be my favorite hobby.  I’ve been waking up every two hours at night.  Why?  I DON’T KNOW.

And the curl has left my hair.  I don’t know where it went.  But it’s not there. (This could be weather-related.)

There you go.  Your bitchy post for the day.