gement | Christmas: The Reckoning

Okay, here goes. I don't really expect you to care. This is that fine line between public entertainment and journaling for my own recollection. The first and last sections are the most likely to be of general interest.

Also, before you write me off as completely self-centered and materialist (you know who you are), I could get happy about all the things I got for other people, but that feels more like bragging, which feels gross. This, on the other hand, feels like gratitude. So it's not just that I'm poinging up and down about all my new toys. Still, damn, I got a lot of loot this year, including some that I got brave and got for myself.

The experience: Breakfast and pajamas. All day.

This is a family tradition because we already had turkey at Thanksgiving until we were sick of it. Instead, we eat like hobbits. Everyone is invited as long as they let us know they are coming and wear pajamas. This year the non-resident attendees were Mom's boyfriend, Dad, and

cristoforio.

First order of the day is to don pajamas, run into Mom's room NO EARLIER THAN 7AM, jump on the bed with our stockings (this is a bit intimidating with three grown women) and dump out all the stocking stuffers for inspection. This year, the tradition was modified; Mom was sleeping out in the studio/guest room with her man, so he had to come in and get his stocking too. Apparently he's a first-timer at the stocking thing, and was rather intimidated by the ritual, but he jumped on the bed with the best of us, and we shot him with Silly String until he felt at home.

First Breakfast is continental. Bagels, jam, all kinds of dairy products, fresh fruit. This gives the adults time to become conscious. After First Breakfast, we start opening presents, one at a time, taking a respectful pause to admire, demonstrate, and test-drive each one before opening the next. (Most of the loot and hijinx itemized in the following sections took place between first and second breakfasts.)

This lasts us nicely until about 11am, when we run out of presents and have Second Breakfast: Eggs, all kinds of meat, hashbrowns, gravy. After Second Breakfast, we waddle back to the living room and open the "stockings" (gift bags) from our grandparents, which get more amusing by the year since our tastes mature and the contents ... don't particularly. They're awfully fun, though.

This year, after grandparent stockings, we all kind of passed out, so we never got around to Third Breakfast (waffles, whipped cream, fresh strawberry sauce, fruit salad, sparkling cider), let alone Fourth Breakfast (occasionally quiche, more often whatever's left for snacking). We had the waffles on Boxing Day along with bite-size steak, still working toward fruit salad, and it looks like the sparkling cider won't be touched until New Year's at this rate.

Eating breakfast and wearing flannel jammies all day leads to a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere and lots of naps. LOTS of naps.

If you want to skip the loot and get to the hijinx, scroll down to Cheap but Exotic.

Functional presents:

cristoforio got me a guitar! I've been practicing for a couple weeks now, and it's to the point that even skipping a few days I still have some decent muscle memory built up. I'd been talking vaguely about investing in one if I kept at it for another month, so he beat me to it! He was shy about its "pre-owned" status, while I am thrilled to now have an opportunity to learn guitar care techniques and make an instrument really really mine, starting with learning how to properly replace all the strings. This was an incredibly thoughtful present, and makes me all dancey.

Mom got me silverware for eight, picked at Walmart. I won't bore you with a picture. It's very pretty, and reminds me of Peter Jackson's version of Elven architecture. It's called Lily Frosted, from Hamptons, and you can't find a picture anywhere on the internet. (I tried. Please, prove me wrong.)

Dad and Pat got me the family-branded hoodie (mentioned in a previous post) and a chenille throw that I requested a while back.

I got myself a Concord EyeQ 4060 AF digital camera on Boxing Day, assisted by a kick-in from Mom. It takes decent snapshot quality pics (4Mpix, jpg) and short videos (avi), and downloads into my computer without hassles, which is all I want. Reviews say it's a battery hog, so I'll use rechargables. I first tried buying myself a $20 digital camera, with which I could take LJ icons and not much else, so I took it back. I don't want to publish my art, I just wanna take pictures. I'm very happy with my Concord.

Also: A monthly calendar (Celtic mandalas), a daily calendar (Dilbert), a teeny tiny spring-form pan to make cheesecake for two, picture frames and albums, two dozen pairs of pretty underwear, YABBA DABBA DOO boxers, new shoes and new satin lingerie from myself.

Somewhere between functional and decadent, the "self-care" collection of doodads: A book on reflexology called "Hands On Feet" that comes with its own carefully labelled socks, hand exerciser springs (from

garillama), homemade soap from

cristoforio's mom, and a hand-held muscle massager from myself (it ranges from whamwhamwham to vrrrrrrr).

Simply decadent:

You read the cut summary correctly, I now own the librarian action figure with super shh-ing action, accessory copy of her book, "Book Lust," and her own trading card. (Thanks,

lunar___angel!) The complimentary bookmark offers her advice on reading, which is to STOP after 50 pages if you don't like it. Apparently Nancy Pearl starts a dozen books for every one that she finishes. Now that's something to which I could aspire. The breadth of interest that implies strikes awe into my little bibliophilic heart.

Mom also gave me a foot-tall hourglass, accurate to within five minutes and suitable for looking graceful in black hardwood and glass in one's living room. It's surreal to me that something so purely functional as an hourglass is now nothing but a decoration, that its very functionality is now its artistic value. I'm sure there's an art theory paper in there somewhere.

Pat made me a decopaged jewelry box that I would post a pic of if I weren't too lazy. It's celtic knot patterns, all in purples, greens and golds. It's exquisite, and I don't use that word lightly.

kitcatk8 gave me an Alice in Wonderland pop-up book that's beyond belief. Each of the pages has subpages with more pop-ups. I've never seen one this detailed before. Stunningly, she didn't even know that I collect strange children's books. Well. She does now.

Also: A Death chibi comic that's the flip side of Season of Mists (thanks,

lapineken!), the Death action figure with Matthew (Steve), X-Men Uno with the special Mutate card (Dad), hand-painted Christmas ornaments and MARSHMALLOW SNOWMAN PEEPS from

dragon_blooms, Channukah floating candles shaped like Stars of David (Dad).

Cheap but Exotic!:

Okay. You have to understand, my family LIVES on cheap but exotic. I won't bother listing all the flashlights shaped like alligators, novelty lip balm, and varieties of play-doh we invariably inflict on each other, especially in stockings. Honorable mentions go to the Dirty Monkey socks (the monkeys pictured are in bathtubs) and the Belly Dancing for Fun and Fitness video. But the shining winners of this year are:

Archie McPhee's now makes a Pirate Ducky. Thank you,

lunar___angel. I will eventually make a pilgrimage to this Archibald Sisters that you claim stocks everything by Archie McPhee's, Hot Topic, and Metro all in one place. In the meantime, I'm very very happy with my Librarian Action Figure and my Pirate Ducky.

Kazoos. Not just any kazoos, these have Evergreen State College printed on them (go Geoducks!). The living room exploded into a half hour game of Name That Tune after Dad started humming Innagaddadavida on his. Days later, the game is still popping up here and there.

Pirate guns! Single shot muzzle loaders, with rubber bullets, suction darts, and a terribly satisfying effort to cock the mechanism each time. Terribly satisfying, and obviously styled after Johnny Depp's... weapon. My entire pacifist gun-phobic family found itself in a pitched gun battle within seconds of cracking these things open, ducking around corners and losing half of the ammunition to who-knows-where (we still haven't found a third of it).

Mom's boyfriend was trying to talk to his daughter in Ireland on the phone (

ss_carrot) and was dodging and firing at the same time. He's the only hunter/gun owner of the group, and Mom later confided to me that she gave us the guns as an ice breaker to give us some common ground. Oh man, did it work.

lunar__angel kept hers stuck down her pants most of the day ("who do you know who's lost a buttock?"), and the one picture I regret not having from Christmas was a still life: My sister's crashed-out sleeping form on the couch, gold ribbons in her hair and a cocked gun in her hand, cradled protectively against her stomach.

I did get a couple blurry shots of Secret Gangsta Princess Princess, a.k.a.

garillama in pajamas and a dollar store light-up tiara striking Charlie's Angel poses with a pirate gun.

We're going back to the Dollar Store on January 19 when they say they will have more in stock. If you're in the market for cheap but exotic projectile entertainment, place your orders now.

In conclusion, Christmas is a day of many contrasts, and pirate guns are not allowed at the breakfast table.