And so we come to the end... of 2010.
Amazing as it's been, 2010 is over. Oh, pinch me.
I am not a big New Year's Eve person. Never really was. It requires you to stay up way past a reasonable bedtime. This applies whether you are young or old. When you are really young, and I mean, in your childhood, you should be in bed by 9pm. When you are simply young, and now we're talking college/early to mid-20's, you are typically too drunk to stay alert or remain functioning by 12 am on NYE. And then in your 30's, you are often either a parent, and simply exhausted, or you have worked your ass off all day and can't even think let alone get all dressed up to play sophisticated partier. And then by the time you are in your 50's...well hell. Who cares. 1990 or 2011 you are just plain getting older and need your sleep.
So enough about the big event. Let's talk little events. All those wonderful stories our friends and families love to share with us at this time of year. Some call it a Christmas Letter, others a New Years letter. Now, before you start rattling your chains, some of these are priceless and I love them. Filled with humor and silly photos and a sense of the ridiculous or perhaps stories and moments in time about loved ones who have been serving in the military or the peace corp. People we worry about and feel good when news arrives.
Then there are the others. The Narcissistic Anthologies and Soccer Mom Novellas. Look. I know you want to share all the wonderful things happening in your lives. But really, there is a point at which you should stop and ask yourself, does anyone other then Grandma and/or Auntie Mame give a flying bat's tail? No. We don't. We do want to know what's happening in your lives. That much is true. Just not in every little detail and in full regalia.
In all fairness, in some families the tradition runs deep. Year-long family summaries are not only expected, they are required. Like participating in the Thanksgiving Day Bowl at Uncle Timmy's. Competition runs in the blood. This is the real reason you receive these letters later and later each year. Everyone's waiting to see what the others have to say first. You start with "We bought the kids a puppy." Mabel says "Our oldest is now finishing his last year of Vet school" to which Hazel replies "Our youngest has been accepted Early Admission to Harvard, even though she's only 6." Bobbie adds "Our pure-bred schnitzelheimer is going to compete at Westminster." Let the games begin.
What I'm leading up to of course is my annual letter. In all it's glory I know all of you want to know what glorious accomplishments the Millers have to brag about this year. So here it is.
2010. Wow. I can't believe it's over. So much has happened. It started of course with January. We were simply overwhelmed by your outpouring of support and affection, and yes, praise. Deservedly so.
Then February. What a shocker, eh? Who knew things would get so crazy!
March of course came in like a lion and out like a lamb, as you all well know.
Then the big event in April. What a blast that was.
May of course saw the return of our eldest to the old homestead and the rise of the for sale sign in the front yard. We all know how that turned out.
Summertime was brutal what with all that crazy heat. Who knew it could get so hot in the desert.
Fall blew by faster than a bullet train, and now here we are again, New Years Eve.
Look. Let's face it. You don't really care whether my eldest got straight A's or flunked out of her Freshman year of college. You don't really care if my youngest wants to be a doctor or an undertaker. You don't care if I dye my hair and you don't care if my husband got a new car. Unless of course these facts somehow improve your own life circumstances. I can see that. If mine flunks out and yours only gets a few F's, you win. If we get a new Ford, and you get a new Lexus, you win. But if that's the way you look at life, I win. Trust me.
What I do want to know is if everyone is happy and healthy. I want to know if your son graduated college, or if he got his first job. If your daughter got married or you became a grandparent. I don't want or need to know all the glorious details that make your events better than mine. All the cum laude's and valedictorian crap that make all my stories seem somehow less important. They aren't. My kids are healthy and happy. My marriage is good. I still have my good friends in my life and most importantly, I don't need a luxury car or a Latin title to complete me.
And if you actually want to know what's happening in my life, just read my blog. It's all in there. And definitely your choice whether you indulge your curiosity.
I am not a big New Year's Eve person. Never really was. It requires you to stay up way past a reasonable bedtime. This applies whether you are young or old. When you are really young, and I mean, in your childhood, you should be in bed by 9pm. When you are simply young, and now we're talking college/early to mid-20's, you are typically too drunk to stay alert or remain functioning by 12 am on NYE. And then in your 30's, you are often either a parent, and simply exhausted, or you have worked your ass off all day and can't even think let alone get all dressed up to play sophisticated partier. And then by the time you are in your 50's...well hell. Who cares. 1990 or 2011 you are just plain getting older and need your sleep.
So enough about the big event. Let's talk little events. All those wonderful stories our friends and families love to share with us at this time of year. Some call it a Christmas Letter, others a New Years letter. Now, before you start rattling your chains, some of these are priceless and I love them. Filled with humor and silly photos and a sense of the ridiculous or perhaps stories and moments in time about loved ones who have been serving in the military or the peace corp. People we worry about and feel good when news arrives.
Then there are the others. The Narcissistic Anthologies and Soccer Mom Novellas. Look. I know you want to share all the wonderful things happening in your lives. But really, there is a point at which you should stop and ask yourself, does anyone other then Grandma and/or Auntie Mame give a flying bat's tail? No. We don't. We do want to know what's happening in your lives. That much is true. Just not in every little detail and in full regalia.
In all fairness, in some families the tradition runs deep. Year-long family summaries are not only expected, they are required. Like participating in the Thanksgiving Day Bowl at Uncle Timmy's. Competition runs in the blood. This is the real reason you receive these letters later and later each year. Everyone's waiting to see what the others have to say first. You start with "We bought the kids a puppy." Mabel says "Our oldest is now finishing his last year of Vet school" to which Hazel replies "Our youngest has been accepted Early Admission to Harvard, even though she's only 6." Bobbie adds "Our pure-bred schnitzelheimer is going to compete at Westminster." Let the games begin.
What I'm leading up to of course is my annual letter. In all it's glory I know all of you want to know what glorious accomplishments the Millers have to brag about this year. So here it is.
2010. Wow. I can't believe it's over. So much has happened. It started of course with January. We were simply overwhelmed by your outpouring of support and affection, and yes, praise. Deservedly so.
Then February. What a shocker, eh? Who knew things would get so crazy!
March of course came in like a lion and out like a lamb, as you all well know.
Then the big event in April. What a blast that was.
May of course saw the return of our eldest to the old homestead and the rise of the for sale sign in the front yard. We all know how that turned out.
Summertime was brutal what with all that crazy heat. Who knew it could get so hot in the desert.
Fall blew by faster than a bullet train, and now here we are again, New Years Eve.
Look. Let's face it. You don't really care whether my eldest got straight A's or flunked out of her Freshman year of college. You don't really care if my youngest wants to be a doctor or an undertaker. You don't care if I dye my hair and you don't care if my husband got a new car. Unless of course these facts somehow improve your own life circumstances. I can see that. If mine flunks out and yours only gets a few F's, you win. If we get a new Ford, and you get a new Lexus, you win. But if that's the way you look at life, I win. Trust me.
What I do want to know is if everyone is happy and healthy. I want to know if your son graduated college, or if he got his first job. If your daughter got married or you became a grandparent. I don't want or need to know all the glorious details that make your events better than mine. All the cum laude's and valedictorian crap that make all my stories seem somehow less important. They aren't. My kids are healthy and happy. My marriage is good. I still have my good friends in my life and most importantly, I don't need a luxury car or a Latin title to complete me.
And if you actually want to know what's happening in my life, just read my blog. It's all in there. And definitely your choice whether you indulge your curiosity.
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