I love my son. Lo and I woke up Jack this morning with the promise of ‘driving on the highway’ as soon as breakfast was over, and his excitement of going in the car pushed him out of bed, even though his sleepiness caused him to walk smack into the doorway. He is such my little carbon copy sometimes. He’d be content to drive for hours listening to music (mine, thankfully) if it were up to him. After merging conversations he once asked if we could return the movie to the store in Colorado. I was up for it.

So we picked up our Christmas cards today, and I’m currently taking a break from addressing them. Personally I’d be ok if it were federally mandated that everyone be forced to give picture cards. I know some people think that’s lame, but I think a random card with a Santa-hatted cartoon mouse, signed with just your name, is not as much fun. But really it doesn’t matter, I just love getting Christmas cards. This is the only time of the year I check the mailbox – Jon teases me about it.

Unfortunately, I seriously underestimated the number of cards we’d need, and now I’m forced to put people into regular-card or picture-card categories. And it’s not a popularity contest, I promise. It’s more likely that if you see me all the time you’ll get a regular card while my friends across the states (world – two in Germany!) will get the picture. And I know part of this is because I just enjoy sending hellos to people – especially if the pictures are so damn cute (which, since they’re from that slide-show, they are). But also it’s because I don’t know the etiquette of whom to include or not. It’s a ripple effect on who you know, and it’s the edges that I seem to err on the side of caution – if that makes any stupid sense. I just don’t want anyone to feel badly that they didn’t get one. It’s not that big of a deal, I know, but it’s something I think about nonetheless. And it’s really not that hard to send them, so I do. Unless I don’t get enough, and then we’re back to the original problem. Sigh.

Moving on.. I finished another book Jon brought home from the library (which despite Jon’s insistence, I don’t enjoy, because then you have to give them back) and it was great. It was Chuck Klosterman’s Killing Yourself to Live . Klosterman is the main reason we subscribed to Spin for the last few years, despite it totally becoming Top-40 suckage from being bought by some horrible devil-like Clear Media or something. ANYWAY, I love Klosterman’s writing style, which is tied with Steve Rushin for how I’d love to sound like. He’s got another book out I haven’t read yet, so I’m jonesing to get it. (Or have H.Pimp get it from the library I guess. Boo.)

And finally, to end an oddly meandering post, a question thrown out there: An ongoing conversation with our friends is what song would you choose to be your intro from the bullpen, if you were a pitcher? Jon said his was something by Rage Against the Machine, which makes sense, because you want your song to represent you as a total baddass, which Rage is (are). I suggested for myself the last minute of Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven’ or the intro to Ozzy’s ‘Crazy Train’, but he just gave me a look and shook his head at my apparent un-badassedness. So I’m curious what I should pick and what you would pick. That is, if you’ve ever thought about it.

 

Happy Wednesday.

 

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