Usually, we travel to Iowa for Christmas to celebrate with Brian’s family. My family that’s still in Chicago celebrates around the New Year because my mom usually travels at this time. Unfortunately, I was afraid we wouldn’t be able to go to Iowa because I was starting to fall into a depression. I decided not to let it stop me, but by then our sitters were booked and I was hesitant to try someone new that we didn’t know at all — I mean, they’d have keys to our place! I personally know the owners of our regular sitters.

I was really disappointed about not seeing Brian’s family. Although we haven’t gone to Iowa consistently because of my depression, we were there last year and the year before, I think. We usually spend Thanksgiving and New Year’s quietly at home, but not Christmas.

So Brian decided to do his best to give me his family’s traditional Christmas and asked me what I liked about it — in terms of food. He said he’d be making ham with mashed sweet potatoes and (fresh, not canned) green bean casserole. I said Christmas cookies like his grandma used to make — the kind with that sort of hardened icing, not frosting from a can — and brownies. Then his jaw dropped when I said deviled eggs. I love deviled eggs even though they’re so bad for you. But I offered to help with the eggs — I mean, how hard can it be to make them? No, I don’t know how to boil an egg, but I could help with the rest of it. I even offered to help with the baking.

Old-timers know Why I Am Not a Domestic Goddess. In fact, I’m a danger to myself in the kitchen. I’ve sliced my thumb wide open slicing a bagel — that doesn’t even involve the oven. And when we got these rubber, dishwasher-safe pot holders, I thought the hole on one end was to slip your thumb through, which I did, and burned myself removing something from the oven.

On Sunday, we got a call from one of the nurses at our vet, who said she could sit for us. Hooray! Fortunately, there were still rooms available at the hotel where we planned to stay. Not a whole lot of room at Mom and Dad’s — Brian’s 2 siblings and their spouses are staying there, and one of the couple’s 2 dogs!

This holiday season has been the first I’ve enjoyed in years. Even when I didn’t think we’d be able to see Brian’s family. He took last week off and we filled out holiday cards and wrapped presents together. In the past I’d done most of that but doing these things together is what made it so much fun. All of our local packages have been dropped off and we have 2 packages to take to the post office that won’t make it to their destinations by Christmas, but oh, well.

Sure, I’m feeling the holiday stress like everyone else, but I did get my shopping done early. All of this has been a lot of progress on my part because in previous years I did all the shopping online. A few years ago I stopped sending cards because it was all too overwhelming and I was just too depressed. Although I’m sure we won’t get everything done that we’d like, I’m doing my best not to worry about it. Maybe I’m finally learning not to be such a perfectionist.

Today, I realized that I must be improving because I actually feel happy. Happy. I felt kind of sad, too, though, because it took me a while to figure out what I was feeling because I hadn’t felt it in so long. And although I’m enjoying the season, no, I’m not wearing cheesy holiday sweaters and going around singing Christmas carols.

Recently I posted this question on my FB status, and boy did I get some answers. They were about even between the yays, nays, and middle-of-the-roads. Some people enjoy receiving them but don’t like writing them. One person likes receiving them but feels they’re somewhat impersonal. And the nays, oh, man — they didn’t all explain the reasons for their answer but they were pretty vehemently NAY.

Me, sure it’s nice to know what happened with family and friends throughout the past year but I also think a form letter, even if it’s on the cutest holiday stationery EVER, is impersonal. Granted, a written note is impractical if you’re sending out a ton of cards. But what I can’t stand about these newsletters, and what most of the nays couldn’t stand either, are the ones from the perfect families leading perfect lives and making sure to let everyone else know about it. And let’s face it — why would the non-perfect families even bother? What would they say:

Brian’s still working at the same job, thankfully, so we can afford Barb’s medical bills. Barb, although showing some improvement, still suffers from bipolar depression and anxiety. The cats are fine, all still alive, even the old ones. Happy Holidays!

Who would want to read a letter like that? It wouldn’t even take up the entire sheet of paper! But for the past few years, that sums up our lives. This is the first year that’s actually been pretty good comparatively. Comparatively.

And seriously, those perfect families probably aren’t perfect — I mean, do perfect families really exist? Probably those letter writers know how to put a spin on their newsletter so their lives look perfect on paper. It’s still really annoying, though, isn’t it?

• It seems that the kitty stomach flu has spread to Angelo because he didn’t eat his breakfast. However, he did eat his second meal today, including the dregs of Hopper and Basil’s leftovers. Hee Seop didn’t eat the special “bad tummy” food, but ate half of his regular food. Hopper seems fine and no one has vomited (that I’ve found).
• I’m feeling a little less exhausted today. I dragged my upstairs neighbor to Starbucks before returning home for my therapist session, so at least I got out of the apartment. Maybe the extra .5mg of Klonopin is easing my anxiety, after all. It’s still too early to tell, though.
• My therapist agreed to a phone session this morning because I was all up in arms about the cats. Anyway, she advised me to let go of the incident yesterday morning, when the desk clerk at the new gym gave me all kinds of bullshit when I canceled my fitness test. I was ready to cancel my membership, but I actually had the insight to ask myself (and my therapist) today: what is rash and what is rational? So I’m letting it go. My therapist said that if it happens again, however, that’s a different story.

  I’m not going to totally go into it but let’s just say that the desk clerk gave me very poor customer service, and I was already upset because of the sick cats and from being absolutely exhausted. If I’m unable to reschedule the fitness test due to their cancellation policy (that the desk clerk was unclear about), then whatever. It’s a free service anyway. But OK, part of me still wants that girl fired.

• I’m looking forward to having a quiet Thanksgiving with Brian, which is our little tradition. He cooks, we eat, we watch football. And probably I’ll play Mafia Wars and lurk on Twitter. And hopefully catch up on blog reading and poem writing.

Wow. What an utterly boring post this is!

What does that even mean for me? I don’t work and my days consist mainly of being on the computer sending and answering e-mail; Twittering; reading blogs; blogging sometimes (NaBloPoMo doesn’t count); posting silly (and a few not so silly) things on my Tumblr blog, The Insane and Mundane (shameless plug); playing Mafia Wars on FB. When I’m not on the computer I’m reading or watching TV. Once a week I go to therapy. Every 3 or 4 weeks I see my pdoc and there are various other appointments in between.

When I started working out again, I’ve had to rearrange my schedule and that still isn’t ironed out. I’m one of those people who needs routine. I need to know what to do next or at least have an idea or I’m completely lost. Do you have any idea how hard this is when most of what you do is stay home all day?

When we returned from vacation, I dreaded today. It meant that I should have gone back to the gym. All weekend I worried about whether or not I would, though I tried really hard not to. I wish I could just take things in stride. I told myself that I wouldn’t beat myself up if I didn’t make it to the gym today, that I’m still exhausted from our trip and that it’s OK to take a day to relax. Besides, I have a fitness test tomorrow so I’ll be at the gym, then.

But in the middle of the night, Hee Seop threw up, then immediately headed for the litter box and had a bout of diarrhea. This is very unlike him. He rarely throws up, not even hairballs. We were worried, of course, but I’m glad I was able to fall back asleep. Then he didn’t eat his breakfast, which is also not like him. He inhales his food. Something was definitely wrong, so I called the vet and luckily they had openings this morning. It was also an “excuse” not to go to the gym.

He’s still being held for observation and treatment (fluids for dehydration and some anti-nausea meds), though his abdominal x-rays were clear. His labs won’t be back until tomorrow. The vet said that he was the third cat she’d seen today presenting with those symptoms, and that one of the other vets saw 2 others. It could be that something’s going around in the kitty world, which the vet says can happen, but she said it definitely isn’t swine flu, so that’s good. OK, she called it H1N1, but come on, it’s swine flu.

In the meantime, I’m still waiting to hear back from them and trying not to be too anxious. I’m sure he’s fine. He rarely has to go to the v-e-t except for his annual check-up.

In the meantime, I’m worried about whether or not I’ll make it to my fitness test tomorrow.

In the meantime, I still don’t know why I’m so exhausted even though I’m getting plenty of sleep.

In the meantime, I’m worried about how I’m going to fit working out into my daily schedule.

Good thing I see the pdoc tomorrow and my therapist on Wednesday.

These 2 things do not go together. While I love having pretty toes, once it gets below 60°, maybe even 70° because I get cold easily, I stop wearing flip-flops or sandals. Lately, I have considered not getting color during the colder weather because first of all, no one sees my toes except for Brian, the cats, and me. OK, I suppose the ladies in the gym locker room might notice them.

Second, it takes way too frickin’ long for the polish to dry and even when the nail tech assures me that it’s safe to put on my socks and clogs (which is what I bring even when there’s a foot of snow, because I will not pull on snow boots after a pedicure), even when she assures me that it’s safe, well, sometimes she’s wrong. As soon as I get home and pull off my socks, what do I find? Ruined polish.

It just so happens that there’s a salon a block away from our hotel. Though I already have my next pedicure scheduled — you know how they get busy with the holidays and all — and my nail tech has warned me against getting pedicures while on vacation because you pay a lot more and might get a decent pedi, I wanted pretty toes. Besides, my nail tech did recommend getting massages while on vacation and again, since there’s a salon a block away, I scheduled one — which was fantastic, by the way. But I couldn’t resist asking about a pedi because I. Want. Pretty. Toes. Plus, we’re in Cedar Falls, IA, so how expensive could it be, even if they do a shitty job?

And as you can see from the picture above (click to see the large image and the wonderful new OPI color I decided to try called “Dear Santa”), my toes look great. The nail tech talked to me, unlike that one time I made the mistake of getting what turned out to be a shitty pedi at a spa in Mesquite, NV, where they didn’t even use soap in my tub — gross — and I was completely ignored. In fact, the lady today, it turns out, went to high school where my father-in-law used to teach. Just before she put on the polish, she put these lovely disposable pedicure slippers you see here on the left. These soles are 5mm thick, though I’m pretty sure the ones I wore were the 3mm ones.

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