Annual Noir Christmas Letter
Dear Friends, Relations and Acquaintances,
Well, we’re about to wrap up another year and what a year it was!
After six long years of living in sin, the Programming Brawler asked me to marry him and we actually went through with it. It was the most elaborate and fantastic expenditure of money I’ve ever personally experienced. If you’re getting this letter, you most likely were there and had an enjoyable, debaucherous time. And those of you who RSVP’d you would be there but didn’t show…well, you missed a pretty good party. To everyone who’s been askin’ me for the last six years “When you gettin’ married?” - the questions regarding grandchildren can now commence.
This, darlings, has been a year of firsts. I’ve just noticed my very first wiry silver hair. It’s growing straight up out of the middle of my bangs like an upturned middle finger greeting me every morning. I’m sure it’s the first of many.
Furthermore, I’ve had an additional first encounter with inevitable geriatric problems. Incontinence. No, not me, but my cat Mortimer has recently started showing his disfavor by sprinkling on top of clothing items that have been discarded onto the floor. He likes a tidy apartment, you see.
The Programming Brawler has abandoned the self employment dream and got himself a corporate job at a national bookstore chain that shall remain unnamed. It’s his first corporate job ever - in which he uses his computer talents to jockey the help desk in an underground silo. He spends his days behind a small desk, speaking on the phone to distant, desperate bookstore clerks who are tearing their hair out over check-out register computers that won’t cooperate.
On another note I’ve failed to give up potato chips, loose any weight, or decrease my drinking habit. In fact, I’m drinking a coffee with amoretto as I type this. And, mmmmmm, it’s good!
Unfortunately, I will not be enclosing the yearly photo with Santa. My sister and I went to the Ritzy Mall for our annual visit, but to our dismay, Santa was booked and was not taking anymore appointments. So, in place of that, here is a picture of me in my newest addition to my secret vice – hats. Thanks Great Aunt Delphine.
All the best always, darlings
XXOOXXOO
Noir Muse
Well, we’re about to wrap up another year and what a year it was!
After six long years of living in sin, the Programming Brawler asked me to marry him and we actually went through with it. It was the most elaborate and fantastic expenditure of money I’ve ever personally experienced. If you’re getting this letter, you most likely were there and had an enjoyable, debaucherous time. And those of you who RSVP’d you would be there but didn’t show…well, you missed a pretty good party. To everyone who’s been askin’ me for the last six years “When you gettin’ married?” - the questions regarding grandchildren can now commence.
This, darlings, has been a year of firsts. I’ve just noticed my very first wiry silver hair. It’s growing straight up out of the middle of my bangs like an upturned middle finger greeting me every morning. I’m sure it’s the first of many.
Furthermore, I’ve had an additional first encounter with inevitable geriatric problems. Incontinence. No, not me, but my cat Mortimer has recently started showing his disfavor by sprinkling on top of clothing items that have been discarded onto the floor. He likes a tidy apartment, you see.
The Programming Brawler has abandoned the self employment dream and got himself a corporate job at a national bookstore chain that shall remain unnamed. It’s his first corporate job ever - in which he uses his computer talents to jockey the help desk in an underground silo. He spends his days behind a small desk, speaking on the phone to distant, desperate bookstore clerks who are tearing their hair out over check-out register computers that won’t cooperate.
On another note I’ve failed to give up potato chips, loose any weight, or decrease my drinking habit. In fact, I’m drinking a coffee with amoretto as I type this. And, mmmmmm, it’s good!
Unfortunately, I will not be enclosing the yearly photo with Santa. My sister and I went to the Ritzy Mall for our annual visit, but to our dismay, Santa was booked and was not taking anymore appointments. So, in place of that, here is a picture of me in my newest addition to my secret vice – hats. Thanks Great Aunt Delphine.
All the best always, darlings
XXOOXXOO
Noir Muse
posted by Noir Muse at 10:11 AM
3 Comments:
Tom Petty and I fully intended to attend your lovely nuptials, I swear--but at the very last minute had to fight crime.
All the best to you and the P.B. in aught-six.
great letter! hope next year is as good as 2005!
Ratchtaphol, cheers to you. You've discovered my weakness.
Mr. Flint, all the best to you and the Starbucks Barista. Although I'm sorry you and Mr. Petty couldn't make it to the wedding, I can't really hold it against you if you were fighting crime, now can I?
Robin, thanks! I look forward to reading more of your posts in 2006. (I'm crossing my fingers for tadpoles in the spring)
Post a Comment
<< Home