I love receiving holiday greeting cards. It’s such a thrill to go to the mailbox expecting to see a stack of bills, but instead finding envelopes stuffed with photos of smiling faces, little handwritten notes, and festive decorations. They almost never fail to bring a smile to my face. Almost.
Coming from an extremely religious family, I often receive holiday cards that are addressed to only me. Everyone that knows me is aware that I live with my partner, that we are a couple, and that we have been together for over two years. I can’t imagine sending a Christmas card to a household with two people and only addressing the card to one of them. It seems incredibly rude.
I know that this is their feeble attempt at ignoring something that they strongly disagree with, but I’d almost rather not even receive their card. It shames me, though not in the way they might have wished. It embarrasses me that my family is so backwards and intolerant that they can’t put their religious beliefs aside long enough to wish someone a Merry Christmas.
After a few weeks of procrastinating, I finally got around to mailing out our greeting cards earlier this week. Every card that I mailed was signed in the exact same manner: Love, Brian and Honey. I must admit that it gives me a little rush to know the recipient can no longer pretend that my partner doesn’t exist.
Time goes by too fast. So fast that I forgot to have that important talk with my youngest kid about the evils of premarital sex. It’s a good thing she’s only a cat.
Is it possible that it has already been almost five months since I brought that tiny little kitten home from work? It seems like only a few weeks have passed since she was starving for a bottle full of kitten formula, but now she’s hungry for something entirely different. Unfortunately for us and every living thing within a 5 mile radius, our “kitten” is in heat.
It started one day last week. I noticed that she was incessantly licking herself and making strange noises – something between a meow and a purr that resembles the sound one would expect from a chipmunk. Being the ever-doting parent, I immediately placed her in the cat carrier and whisked her to the vet’s office for a checkup. You can imagine my surprise when I was told that she might be going into heat. I assured the vet that she was only around four months old, but a quick check of her records showed that she will soon be six months of age.
Since the holidays are quickly approaching and we wouldn’t have been able to give her our undivided attention while she recuperated, I scheduled her surgery for the 27th. In the meantime, we have to live with the antics of a feline who acts like she’s on Ecstacy.
I tend to humanize my pets, often referring to them as my children, talking to them as if they understand English, and sparing no expense on doctor’s visits and food. You can’t possibly comprehend how much it bothers me when my male cat, Twinkie, tries to mate with his “sister.” Even though he’s fixed and seems clueless about what he’s doing (I never had “the talk” with him, either), it sickens me that two of my kids are trying to reproduce. Ugh.
Macy Gray drives us crazy at all hours of the night – rolling around, making that annoying chipmunk sound, sticking her butt in the air. We’ve taken to affectionately calling her “Mommy’s little whore” or “Daddy’s little slut”, but she doesn’t seem to care.
I tried to talk some sense into her this evening when I explained that in a little over one week from now she will go to the vet to have her insides scooped out. I hoped that she would take our little chat to heart and stop the hormonal antics, but she promptly left my lap and began rolling around on the floor with all four legs in the air.
Wynonna Judd’s Christmas tour made its stop in Paducah last night, where she belted out traditional holiday classics and a couple of her biggest hits to the adoring crowd, which included her mother, Naomi.
Wynonna wove her way through practically every song on her holiday disc, stopping to joke and interact with the audience on several occasions. Her sense of humor was delightful and campy, but the show also had its tender moments, like when she recalled giving her life to Christ at the age of seventeen.
Her voice was flawless, honed by over twenty years of record-making and touring. She shook the rafters on “O Holy Night” and “Ave Maria”, bringing everyone to their feet multiple times.
There were two songs that blew me completely away. One was “I Want To Know What Love Is”, a remake of Foreigner’s hit. She so completely embodies the song that she could have easily written it herself, and it was so beautiful that it actually made my insides ache.
The other was “Beautiful Star of Bethlehem”, a song I hadn’t heard since I was a young child attending a Pentecostal church. I immediately got my cellphone, called my sister, and let her listen as Wynonna harmonized with her supporting singers.
After returning for an encore of two songs, Wynonna asked the audience to sing to her. As the band softly played “Silent Night”, everyone stood and joined voices. It was peaceful and moving – an appropriate conclusion to a lovely evening.