20 December, 2006

fragile snacks and lazy ass monkeyfication

so it's been days and days without me and i hear the world's suicide rate is rapidly rising. but i've been baking cookies, you see. cookies. yes. moi. baking. shocking and alarming, true, but i've made cookies and realised that although i am not into diamond rings, overpriced vehicles or caviar, i want a goddamn shiny jaguar of a kitchen and i want it NOW. baking, as lovely as it is, as much as it fills my heart with gentle warmth, my gut with rippling blubber and my house with the aroma of ginger and nutmeg (displacing for once the garlic fumes that mark our ethnicity), it also fills my kitchen with layers upon layers of cookie pans, bowls, mixers, cookbooks and the stainless steel kitchen utensils that mister monkey displays an alarming fondness for (you wanna see the guy's eyes light up? show him a slotted spoon. seriously. it's weird.). so when/if we move into our newly purchased house, i want the whole shebang. i want large gleaming counters, bottom-freezer fridge, gas stove, and a whole shitload of drawers, shelves and lazy susans ready to produce, at my slightest whim, a spatula, a garlic press or a blender, while maintaining a zen-like clutter free atmosphere. got that, santy? you listening fat man?

so, what else is new? not much. except we are being swamped by cards, emails, photos, letters and, in one case, hand coloured limited edition prints from friends all over the world. all this fills me with a warm fuzzy feeling at the pit of my belly that, for once, is unrelated to excessive alcohol consumption, but also makes me a tad anxious. you see, we don't do cards. every year we send out three cards to elderly relations and that's that. now if you are one of the wonderful people who has sent one of the above and received no response let me assure you that i do think of you, appreciate you and think you are the bee's knees, but i suck at cards. i truly do. and lately i suck at responding to emails as well. and letters. largely i have been keeping busy breathing and drinking, which leaves little time for correspondence.
so a shout out to all of my spectacular friends - you rock my world, you are funny, intelligent, unreasonably good looking, sweet, warm and generous, and you are the reason i get up most mornings (that and the pesky job), and please please please don't feel slighted. the real reason we don't do cards is complicated and twofold:

The Real Reason (Complicated and Twofold):

1. we are total idiots who also happen to be dreadfully lazy
2. see above

so if you get tired of sending one way correspondence and you wanna come over here and kick our monkey loving asses, come on down! i baked cookies!

2 comments:

Anthony said...

That's cool. My mother will be the only one receiving a Christmas card this year from me. Those who deserve recognition will receive it in the form of a real letter post-Christmas, or a phone call, or a lame comment on her blog.
Have a good one.

Pitur said...

I am with you, trying to remember all the addresses is a pain in the behind. I did it once one year. I get cards and I felt bad about not giving any out (I even got chocolate covered almonds this year as an attachment instead of usual bottle of Polmos's finest), but I see a kind soul who understands my deep loathing of the whole process.