Thursday, December 08, 2005

Fish Out of Water

I know you're all waiting for the big rebuttal, but I've been lacking in motivation lately, and a lot has happened since Friday, when I was all worked up about that post.

On the agenda, once I finally get over this little bout of "write a New York Times bestseller or don't write anything at all!":

• The made-for-TV Christmas movie so bad it actually made Robyn vomit. (Such a disappointment, Greg!)

• Robyn's and my Good Old Fashioned Family Christmas, which was nearly the perfect urban twentysomething reinactment of Christmas Vacation.

• My thwarted attempt at becoming a knife-wielding murderess.

• The company Christmas party that did not result in me drunkenly dancing on a bartop somewhere (woo!), but most definitely did result in a bruised uterus and me doubting my future child-bearing capabilities.

• My tribute to The Joey, the greatest cat ever to swat my face with his cute little claws.

• The magic, the excitement, the all-day strategic extravaganza that is... GIFT WRAP WONDERLAND!!!

• The actualization of what I've come to realize is my greatest fear: domestic pet-type fish forced out of their habitats. I had a very alarming and realistic dream about it, then saw not one but two commercials where fish tanks were either destroyed or drained with the fish still in them! Oh, the humanity! I don't know what it means to be so disturbed by goldfish-murder, but I'm sure someone out there has some sort of Freudian dream analysis website to link to. Anyone...? Fish out of water...?

So that's that. You'll still get your post-response-refutation, but right now I'm not too keen to play the chick-lit heroine. Maybe after another Saturday night of trudging through shin-deep slush in my snow boots...