Saturday, December 16, 2006
Don't Hate Me Because I Don't Send Christmas Cards
Yeah. Hate me because I'm beautiful, but not because I don't send Christmas cards. I can't help the beauty, it has nothing to do with me. But the cards, well, that has everything to do with me.
I used to, when I hadn't lost hope and had stuff about my life to update you on. But there's a certain point in a childless single woman's life when sending a card with her only prized possession, her cat, is considered pathetic. I could send a card featuring a photo of my parents, but that's just weird. Not weirder than sending a card featuring a photo of ugly* children, but... that's another story.
You'll have perfectly happy holidays without hearing from me, so just deal with it. Thanks. Bye.
*If you think that love might be blinding your judgement, get a second opinion. To send a card with a fug kid on it is mean: to the recipient and the kid. If you can't get a second opinion, take a picture of of their backs. You know, a shot of the kids admiring the tree or something.
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5 comments:
The key is to never start sending them.
Happy Holidays Anne!
I'm too broke to send pictures of my {fake} baby. But if you want my cats, let me know.
You should come to the show tonight! But if not, have a Happy Holiday and if you're in Buffalo or Cuba I expect a phone call.
That's so nice! Thanks for the well wishes.
"...of all the Anne Altmans I know, you're the Anne Altman-iest."
What about sending a card with a fug dad on it? That's how we roll in the Miller home.
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