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So as it turned out, Christmas was wonderful. Everything that I was stressed about was put on the back burner. Time with my family, fun gifts, great wine and yummy food made the holiday special.

And last night Michael and I decided to take advantage of the after-Christmas sales. New pants and jeans for him. New boots for me. YAY! The perfect boots I had been eyeing but couldn’t rationalize buying during gift-giving season. And now they were on sale for $70 less. I couldn’t pass them by this time.
The only problem is…I’m really out of space.

That’s not even all of them!

For the remainder of my vacation I am focusing on kicking the cold I’ve developed and celebrating New Years Eve/my birthday with some great friends. Boobeski is coming tomorrow and my oldest friend (literally since we were infants) is coming Sunday.
Looks like it will be a happy new year!

Just wanted to post a little update. Things are getting better…working themselves out. Thank you all for your kind words and support. It meant a lot.

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

It’s the last day before vacation and while I am looking forward to the break and seeing my family, I am very aware that this holiday will not be all merry and bright. This is going to be a hard Christmas.

My sister has caused the family a lot of heartache and stress lately. Trust has been lost. A lot of feelings have been hurt. A lot of tears have been shed. And while I’m still looking forward to seeing everyone, embracing them in hugs and watching them open their gifts, a part of my holiday spirit has really died.

I’m so tired. I’m tired of crying at night. I’m tired from crying at night. I’m already counting down the minutes until today is over because each day that passes is one day closer to things getting better. I hope.

I know we’ll all pull together as a family and make the most of the holiday and the time we have together. I am thankful for them and for Michael, who has been my rock and supplier of hugs through all of this. Without him I would be lost.

Happy holidays to all of you.

How to take your mind off the crappy stuff and put yourself in a better mood:

Go out to lunch with friend. Discuss things that make you laugh and laugh.

Pop into a store after lunch and leave with two beautiful Ralph Lauren and French Connection tops that are as soft as bunnies on clouds and were ON SALE that you just lurrrve.

Buy two magazines to read curled up under a blanket on the couch when you get home.

Have a really great hair day with perfect waves that are neither too curly nor too frizzy.

Remember the Ben and Jerry’s peanut butter cup ice cream that’s waiting for you in the freezer.

My head is kind of all over the place today, so please excuse the sporadic ramblings that follows. First off, yesterday was my 100th post. That may not be a lot in the world of blogging, but I thought it was pretty cool.

Secondly, that family stuff I thought was getting better? It’s not. It’s getting worse. And my anxiety over it has sky rocketed. I feel physically sick over the situation and I’m really angry. That’s all I really want to say about it right now, but it’s definitely on my mind.

Got my Christmas present from my boss this morning and it’s awesome. Mighty Girl wrote this book and I now own it. Now I have no excuse for a boring post. Did I mention it’s awesome? Because it is.

It’s no secret I love the Christmas season. But know what I don’t like? Holiday commercials. OK, some of them are alright. But most of them? Awful. Especially:

Victoria’s Secret: Featuring Heidi Klum singing “Santa Baby” very, very badly. I don’t know about you, but this does not make me want to buy underwear. It makes me want to change the channel. And fast. Of course, it’s probably not marketed to females…

Lexus: Oh how nice. You go out into your driveway and there’s a shiny new Lexus with a big red bow just for you! Except in my world, that would never happen. And I think it’s fair to say that most people are not getting a new Lexus for the holidays. If you are, congratulations to you. But me, I drive a Honda Accord.

Jeweler Commercials: Kays, Beldin, Jarrod’s (these last two might be RI places, not sure.) If I have to hear one more cheesy song playing in the background while diamond circle pendants sparkle on the screen I’m going to vomit. And their gimmicks are so…gimmicky. “Every kiss begins at Kay,” “He went to Jarrod’s! He went to Jarrod’s? He went to Jarrod’s!!!!” Once again, I apologize if this is something you enjoy, but I would prefer not to get a diamond circle pendant that anyone could pick up at the Walmart jewelry counter. I’m just saying.

Old Navy: Get your fash-on. Yeah, I get it. FashiON. So funny. So annoying. Especially with children and dogs jumping out of boxes. I wish they would stop.

Michael likes the JC Penny commercial with the remix of “Here Comes Santa Claus.” I like that one because he dances to it and I think it’s so cute.

Also, I baked cookies last night for my boss. Which meant my dinner was cookies and two glasses of wine.

And I’m OK with that.

Dear Route 1,

It’s been awhile since we’ve last spoken. I know I made myself clear when I told you it was over between us. I’ve driven over you since our parting without so much of a Hello tossed your way. But today, the silence must be broken. Because today, Route 1, today you pissed me off. Big time.

Please explain to me the reasoning behind the road work at 8:30 a.m. I was driving along, enjoying the sunshine, singing aloud to Christmas carols when I saw the orange cones in the distance. “Merge Left” the sign instructed. OK. I merged left. But what is that big sign up ahead? A stop sign? Are you serious?

So I stop. And the man behind me in the truck stops. And lights a cigarette which means I have to switch my air intake to internal instead of external because I do not want to smell the smoke. And we sit. And sit. And sit. And….oh, wait! No, just kidding. We’re still sitting.

Five minutes go by. Ten minutes. Twelve minutes and ARE YOU SERIOUS? And now, Route 1, I’m starting to get a little nervous. Because the man behind me? He’s Freaking. The. Hell. Out. As in screaming obscenities and slamming his steering wheel so hard that the truck is shaking. And in your genius, Route 1, you have left no escape route. There’s a median to my left, cones to my right and vehicles in front and behind me. If the guy goes postal, I’m going down.

So I eat my granola bar and try not to look in my rear view mirror (even though I want to watch the freak out) because I’m afraid if we make eye contact I’ll become a victim of some serious road rage. I blame you for instilling this fear in me, Route 1.

And then, a highway worker starts flipping out at the cops up ahead because they’re not paying attention and they’ve been letting cars go in the opposite directing for nearly 15 minutes now and there is a line for miles backed up in my direction. I know this because he was throwing his hands in the air and yelling. He was doing this next to my car, Route 1. Also your fault.

And finally, when we start moving, I get leered at. A gross snarl from a scruffy man in a hard hat who topped it off with a wink. And the road work? You mean that piece of plywood we bounced over? I didn’t find that so amusing, Route 1. I really didn’t. After all that there should have at least been a big hole.

I feel secure in my earlier decision to end our relationship. Tomorrow I will once again drive over you and give you the cold shoulder.

Just remember, you brought this upon yourself.

I finally finished my Christmas shopping this weekend. Everything is wrapped and waiting in big shopping bags to go home to New York.

I love looking at those bags of gifts. It’s so nice to finally be in a position where I can afford to give the people I love all the things I want to give them. I spent way too much money on gifts, but I’m OK with that. Although my bank account may be crying a little.

Jen and I braved Target and the Christmas Tree Shop this weekend. Those are two places you really don’t want to be a week before Christmas. But we were successful and actually managed to cross the remaining gift-needs off our list.

Since beginning my shopping in November, I’ve been pretty good about just buying things for others. However, a few items may have been slipped in that are all for me. They include socks, lotion, a DVD, two ornaments, a stuff Newfoundland that I couldn’t resist even though I’m really not a stuffed animal person, countless soy chai lattes and one pair of shoes.

Fabulous leopard-print shoes.

Don’t judge.

Embarrassing: Having a face that turns a shade slightly lighter than a tomato when I work out and remains that way for over an hour.

More Embarrassing: Tripping out the door as I was leaving the pizza place. In front of employees. And customers. Who laughed.

Most Embarrassing Thing Ever EVER: Telling your boss you have diarrhea when you could have just said you were sick and then proceed to continue to ramble on about how you know it’s gross and he probably doesn’t want to hear about it but you CAN’T STOP TALKING even though the voice in the back of your head is yelling SHUT UP! and proceed to spew word vomit all over yourself causing quite the verbal train wreck.

**Hanging head in shame**

This is a weird topic and not for the squeamish. I’m serious. If you’re easily grossed out, stop reading.

That being said…those of you in a relationship: what are your bathroom boundaries?

Mine used to be very cut and dry. When I’m in the bathroom, he’s not. Period. I didn’t mind if he wanted to brush his teeth while I was in the shower, but anything involving the toilet was off limits until I was done.

As our relationship progressed, the boundaries changed. It started with peeing while the other one was in the shower. Then it was peeing while the other one was brushing their teeth.

The boundaries had been reset. I was OK with them.

And then they changed.

Michael got sick. The kind of sick that makes you go to the bathroom. A lot. Our house is small and there’s only one bathroom. So when someone’s really sick, you know it. Now I worked in a daycare for a year after college. I’ve changed more than my fair share of dirty diapers and went through countless accidents that occur during potty training. Obviously I don’t enjoy other people’s bowel movements, but I can handle them.

Since he would be in there so long, we would end up talking through the door. I’d be playing with the dog, he’d be doing his business. It actually didn’t seem that weird, except for when he would talk about it. Is it all guys or just My Guy that likes to discuss the details of his excrements?

Eventually it started cutting into my routine. I needed to do my makeup before work, but he was occupying the room. So I’d dash in, grab my stuff and dash out. Then finally, he had to go when I was in the shower. What can you do, say no?

Now we did not make a habit of this. That was an emergency situation. He does not have the freedom to do as he pleases on the toilet while I’m in there. I don’t bring in a chair and discuss current events. This will never be a regular event for two. It’s still a private time.

And then this morning, while he was in the shower, it hit me. I had to go. It was my turn to push the boundaries. Was I ready for it? I momentarily panicked. Up until now it had always been him going in my presence. Was I ready to share the most personal of situations, which could potentially included noises or smells?

Turns out I was. Oh he made fun of me, of course. But it wasn’t that bad.

I cannot wait until we have two bathrooms.

There is no neat way to eat an orange at your desk.

You will fail from the moment you cut into the rind and citrus-y goodness sprays all over your keyboard, to your first bite that shoots juice onto your computer screen.

Kudos if you can manage to keep to juice that’s running down your arms off of your sweater.

Thank goodness for Clorox wipes.

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