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Dear Self,

Why do you continuously make such bad judgement calls?

Last night was the night to get a lot of sleep in order to rally and assume rockstardom tonight. Instead you chose to drink too much and get home at 4 am. Not your best move. How are you supposed to not only function today, but be able to party all night? Exactly. You’re not 21 anymore, you are 32 years old. You should keep that in mind.

Might I suggest some Advil, a B12 vitamin and lots and lots of water. Pull yourself together. People are counting on you.

Love, Sarah

Sarah: “Ben, you have to go see Juno ASAP, it’s really good. Or Sweeney Todd. You can’t beat a throat-slitting barber.”

Ben: “I can’t see that one. You know I’m scared of Tim Burton movies.”

Sarah: “Still? You sort of an adult now.”

Ben: “Sarah, I was four. Not exactly a movie to force a small child to watch over and over. This is totally your fault.”

Sarah: “Well how was I to know you’d grow up to be a baby man.”

Ben: “You have no room to talk, remember, you’re terrified of Silence of the Lambs.”

Sarah: “Because that is REAL! You could be a skin suit at any given time. Beetle Juice isn’t real. Proving once again I’m way tougher than you.”

Ben: “Perhaps tougher, but still in need of therapy. We really should get a therapist on staff for the entire family.”

Last night I drove to West Jordan to meet friends for a movie. I’ve been dying to see Sweeny Todd and they were going, so it was well worth the commute. Plus they don’t suck.

MapQuest totally lied to me—it took way longer than 16 minutes to get there. Luckily I had my new Spice Girls CD to listen to, so I didn’t mind as much. Getting out of the car I was still singing the Wannabe lyrics…

“Yo. I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want.
So tell me what you want, what you really really want.”

…slightly off-key and entirely louder than I should’ve been, when I heard snickering behind me. Embarrassed I started walking faster, but in my non-weather appropriate footwear that wasn’t such a good idea. I, of course, slipped and in my attempt to keep from falling on my ass I accidentally grabbed the side mirror of a car, nearly tearing it off. It was all sorts of awesome, since the car belonged to the laugher.

So, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want. Not to look like a dumb ass in public, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

Ben: “Stop telling people I like Nascar. I don’t!”

Sarah: “Benjamin, you have a mullet, therefore you must like Nascar. It’s okay, don’t fight it.”

Ben: “People read your blog. No more Nascar talk. BUT, I do really want Carter’s bed. I’m going to request one from Santa next year.”

Sarah: “You could probably just wait a couple years and Carter will outgrow his.”

Ben: “Outgrow it? Why? It’s awesome. Seriously, Sarah, how cool would that look in my extra bedroom? I may kick my roommate Vegan Joe out so I can.”

My niece, Hannah, called me this morning to tell me that Santa brought her a brand new princess bed. She wasn’t kidding. I drove down this afternoon to see for myself and found her cuddled up with her dolls wearing a velvet princess costume. I asked her if there was room for me and she looked up with the sweetest face and said, “Yes and always, but NOT EVER BEN!” Which is totally fine since when I walked out I noticed Ben in Carter’s room begging him to trade beds. Not all surprising since Carter scored a race care bed. Ben is sorta weird and into all that Nascar crap.

Merry Christmas everyone! May you all be as happy as this little girl:

I was out doing some last minute shopping today. Stop. That’s a total lie. Let me start over…

I made a quick run to the liquor store after noticing I only had one bottle of wine in my house. That is completely unacceptable during the holidays, especially when my back-up-plan, Mrs. AK, is busy entertaining family.

Anyway.

The entire time I’m in the store I can hear a small child crying, but it wasn’t until I was in line behind her that I could understand what she was saying. “Buuuuutttttt, mom, I want a drink!” She wailed this over and over, occasionally swapping the word want for the word need. Her mother finally snapped and said, “NO! You don’t need a drink, I need a drink and we’re going straight home so I can have one!” At this point everyone started consoling the mother. One woman telling her we’ve all been through it. Another rubbing her back and telling her to take a deep breathe.

And I think that’s what the holidays are all about, consoling complete strangers because we’re all having a hard time getting through them.

In the middle of my front room is a pile of presents that need to be gift wrapped; only I keep forgetting to buy wrapping paper.

To read my lazy version of a holiday greeting card go here. And here’s proof of the mentioned “haircut.”