Where the Hell is Donna???

My New Slogan

A Reverse Gift Functional Christmas

whenever i used to ask my mother what she wanted for christmas or her birthday, she would respond with guilt-ridden demands like, "i just want you to keep your room clean; that would be the best gift ever." i'd scoff and get her a candle or something. that's much easier.

but since i am cash poor, i have been thinking about this concept - gift giving in the form of meaningful actions. but we are more likely to offer meaningful actions that require little more than the candle - a back rub, a day of cleaning, i'll write your paper for you. but what if on christmas morning, there was a santa hat filled with little wrapped boxes that contained paper. and the gift distributor would pull one out and say, "dad! it's for you!" and dad opens up the box and must read the paper aloud to all: i really wish you would stop being so critical of my boyfriend. love, gina. thus, dad's gift to gina is that he stops being so critical of her boyfriend. adam, you smell like a sick, old goat. please shower more and be sure to use soap. love, mom. arnold, when you call me a mexican it really hurts my feelings. please stop and compliment me more. love, natalie. you get the picture.

this solution makes christmas a cheap, loving, therapy session, in which everyone can give meaningful gifts that will work towards the ultimate wish for all, peace on earth. one family at a time.

a very burgess christmas

the list of reasons why i love kt burgess keeps growing. but why aren't we getting paid to do stuff like this??

http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/US8Ka6hfqCLu6BXHvp8N

"In the mornings I write long circular journal entries when I wake up. Too early. Before work. But even though I am making steady proclamations about who I will go for next, and why, and how it will all be different, it is brutal to imagine the idea of meeting a new person. Going through the same routine. Saying the same phrases I have now said many times: the big statements, the grand revelations about my childhood and character. The cautious revealing of insecurities. I have said them already, and they sit now in the minds of those people who are out living lives I have no access to anymore. Awhile ago, this sharing was tremendous; now, the idea of facing a new person and speaking the same core sentences seems like a mistake, an error of integrity. Surely it is not good for my own mind to make myself into a speech like that. The only major untouched field of discussion will have to do with this feeling, this tiredness, this exact speech.

The next person I love, I will sit across from in silence. We will have to learn it from each other some other way."

http://www.nerve.com/fiction/benderaimee/onasaturdayafternoon/

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