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Friday, December 21, 2007

I love children. Do not take my rantings about holiday cards as a sign that I'm some sort of child-hating anti-breeding douchebag. In fact, if you saw me in a gathering where children are present, you'd find me hanging out with the kids about 90% of the time because I am not good with making non-awkward small talk, but I am very good at teaching six year olds how to do the robot.

These are my peeps.

Also, I'm really immature, so I find that hanging out with kids really makes me look remarkably emotionally healthy. Again, I love children. If you're reading this, I specifically love YOUR children. Are we clear on that yet?

I totes understand sending pictures of kids to your friends and family. Again, I am not hatin'. Here's where I hate. I DON'T KNOW YOU AND YOU SEND ME A CARD WITH YOUR KIDS MUG ALL OVER IT. That's when things get iffy because you are participating in hubris-by-proxy.

Thankfully, this hasn't been much of a problem recently. Seems like East-coasters generally keep the shit in check (in my experience). This was not so in the Midwest where people would hunt down addresses and send cards to anyone who they might have said hello to that year.

As I dig deep into my memory bank of horrible Christmas card shame, I can clearly recall the year a family I'd only known very briefly sent me a picture of their daughter (adopted from China) put into a KIMONO and shoved onto a barren Olan Mills studio to capture the cultural ignorance for all. After the blood clot in my brain dissipated, a very real hatred of personalized holiday cards formed. Again, I make exceptions for anything cleverly done, and you could even phone it all in if you're my friend. I will look askance. I'm sure you do the same for any number of my own social infractions. That's what friendship is about - enabling.

Now I've written entirely too much and feel the need to cleanse my blog of the earnestness, so I will proceed with the mockery. The hunt for holiday cards is addictive. The results have not been disappointing, either.

Wishing you love and laughter, all of which are entirely absent on this girl's face you've put all over the card. How about you start at home with that one.

File this one under "adorable and yet puzzling."

A cow. A COW! Also, I'm not sure that the little daschund is being held in an SPCA-approved manner, but they have included a cow in the family portrait, so I'll give it a pass. Perhaps this is extreme, but I almost feel as though they are turning the entire tradition on its head with the addition of the cow. It's almost mocking us, and everything we believe in.

You can click on the images to see them even larger, and I would really suggest you do that for this one. I'm not sure why they needed to Vaseline the lens, but damn. I guess I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. I know I often go out onto a snowy lawn and have a tea party with a vase of dried eucalyptus. It's a Yule tradition. It's also the day before I break my henna boycott and reapply to the roots - I then make sure to use any leftover henna for the yarn I'm spinning out of this year's lot of ferret hair I've collected. Everyone I met at the RenFest is going to love this year's Yule card and their ferret cloaks.

Here's a poor defenseless Shitzu taking one for the team.

That dog's face really could not be more appropriate.

Another couple to add to the vault of "questionably 'urban.'"

And just to prove that I'm not heartless, I will state that I really, really love the Ramirez family. Especially because they put a beard on a baby and that's just genius.

Adopt me.

Give up for these surreal bitches. Again. Love it.

Want to be frightened to your core? Want to see something that is such an abomination that no one should ever forgive you for it?

I am not going to be able to sleep for days after this. What does it all mean? Why are your children mimes AND ballerinas? What does it have to do with Christmas? Why is that first mime child about to punch me in the face? What does the second mime child hear? Is it the sound of my soul dying?

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