This Year…Happened

Which is crazy to think, you know? That we actually lived -coughsurvivedhack- an entire year.

As a wonderful new friend of mine has so kindly shown me the path, I am following in her hilarious, crooked, mismatched, and possibly tipsy footsteps to a new holiday tradition. If you are interested in this sort of visual Twister game, please, please go visit Hacker.Ninja.Hooker.Spy and her awesome Family Christmas Letter. You will love her, I swear. 

Now, this isn’t the first time I’ve written about holiday traditions. But Christmas Happened was more of the slightly funny, but mostly sappy flavor. And since I can’t get through the holidays only baking up one kind of festive holy-crap-I-made-that-and-it’s-actually-pretty creations…I’m here to add my own, traditional Family Christmas Letter.

You know those letters. Those “Look what I did this year” letters. Those “Isn’t my family beautiful and perfect” letters. Those “Aren’t you just so jealous that I have the time to condense my entire fabulous year into 12 pages of ego vomit for your misery pleasure” letters.

They always have a picture like this.
They always have a picture like this.

Merry Christmas! Season’s Greetings! Happy Holidays! Joyous Kwanzaa! Pleasant Hanukkah! God/or Whoever You Do or Do Not Believe in Bless You!  

2013 was a fantastic year for our big, mixed up (we have too many last names to put them all here) family! And as you can see, we’re still working hard on our promotions across Facebook for the freedoms for all religions to worship, or not, as they choose. We’ve added to our list of Things We Post to Make Our Family Block Us: Women’s Rights, Left-Wing Conspiracies, Democrats for Hilary Clinton as President, and Science Does Exist (as does global warming and evolution). I’m happy to report that I’ve gone from almost 300 friends to a overwhelming 27 co-conspirators. We have been so blessed.

These sorts of Facebook photo shares worked well, in case you were wondering.
These sorts of Facebook photo shares worked well, in case you were wondering.

The year started out with so many resolutions. I resolved myself to the fact that I was going to have to be a writer, whether I wanted to or not. The voices simply would not leave me alone, and so I chose to accept them. I started three different blogs, with one who managed to survive to today. My little baby, Badass Women of History is still alive, but struggling. Let’s all say a prayer, have a moment of silence, or ignore this completely if you’d like for her. Hopefully she’ll be out of therapy and on her feet again in 2014!


I even enrolled back in college, discovered the world was still full of young morons we are happily promoting to statuses allowing them to make important decisions for future generations, and so one semester later…I escaped. That’s right. I ran for the hills and left behind the digital world of online learning, where intelligence doesn’t matter and grammar is a myth. Yes, the world of week long discussions on “Who’s your favorite President of all time?” and “What was cool about that character?”. The magical land where you lose letter grades for writing half a page over the required two pages for a final paper, or mantras like “Who needs to understand the meaning behind this story? NO ONE!” are chanted on every available chat room corner. Yes. I escaped.


I even started a diet this year. Five times! It was an amazing process. I kept watching the Kellogg’s commercials and then I would run drive to the store (this diet never mentioned exercise) and buy up all the crap is that cardboard? tasty Kellogg’s flakeys I could find. Yum. I gained ten pounds this year. I’m so proud of me.


March was exciting. I published my second book. I sold two copies of it. Which is eight less than my first book. I knew I was on my way then, and immediately set out to work on book number three. I mean, the only way I had to go was down, and with some really hard work and perseverance…I did it. Book three came out in October and I’ve sold…wait…ZERO COPIES. I know. It’s so exciting!


Towards the end of April we had a bit of excitement. I even documented the conversation, just so I could remember the wondrous feelings of panic, stress, and oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-puke.

Me:   My brother’s coming home in June.

The Man:  Yeah? Cool.


The Man:  -Playing his video game.- We’ll get married while he’s home. Go ahead and set that up.

Me:   –Insert my own Eyebrow of Doom. (It was a rare sighting, purely brought on by immense shock and unable to be viewed again.)- Whaaaaa?


So the wedding planning began…the next day. It was a beautiful affair (no sarcasm here folks…it was very pretty). The night before was a lot of fun. The man, the brother, and the friend/crazy stressed-out wedding planner and myself got to decorate the entire space the night before. The man was sick. He got dizzy on a ladder and I got to send him home, to fall asleep without me, while I continued to fill this space with as much green, orange, and yellow as humanly possible.

I only had one major freak out before the ceremony, so I count that as a complete win. And I’m not responsible for any of the therapy I may have induced when I lost it in the kitchen and stood there in my dress, demanding they bring me The Man while tears drew streams of make-up down my beautiful, blushing cheeks.

Bring. Me. Mak. NOW!
Bring. Me. Mak. NOW!

I only managed to hurt myself by accident once this year, and it involved a slip-in-slide, so it wasn’t completely my fault. I mean, in my defense, the year before I played on it all day and I was fine. How was I to know that after four or five slips I would be reduced to a hunched over, whining pile of shit-I’m-that-old. I may have had a birthday this year, but I’m stopped counting them. Everyone else got older though. Everyone.

The husband and I both hurt ourselves on purpose. I let a few men stab me, and he let a big Irish guy poke him. I don’t judge…I let the Irish guy poke me, too.

Our wedding rings. These didn't hurt.
Our wedding rings. These didn’t hurt.
The fembot tattoo...which also did not hurt.
The fembot tattoo…which also did not hurt.
These hurt worse than labor.
These hurt worse than labor.

For some reason I believed that the massive canvas that is my thigh wouldn’t be painful. I wore the Cone of Shame on this one. That’s okay though. I wore the Cone so much this year, I should have gotten an award for it. I may have actually, but since this year was the year the husband domesticated me, and since I suck at that as much as I do, the award is probably lying under the pile of clothes that has never found its way into the closets and drawers…or maybe behind that stack of books that we now use like an extra coffee table. It might even be under the bed. I don’t know what’s under the bed anymore. I think it is alive and it eats things…like my award.

So yes, the husband domesticated me. He started a new job and I quit mine. I mean, I don’t need a job. I’m a woman. My power increases tenfold when I enter a kitchen. I become an unstoppable force, surrounded by a cloud of flour and spitting pure vanilla extra into the eyes of my enemies. I am so glad the husband noticed my wonderful disposition towards this lifestyle, and I’m learning my place, truly.


I even got all the good kitchen stuff for my bridal shower, including the waffle maker I use specifically to crush cinnamon rolls down into crunchy, made-for-my-thighs goodness. I went on an absolute baking spree, and even did a halfway good job of it. Enough so that I looked into what it would take to open my own bakery. That’s right…I was going to start my own business. I am so good at following through with everything I start…I’m still home with no bakery. You figure it out.


But those cooking supplies are coming in handy, because we’re back in the holiday season, and now that the husband has made it his goal to put us into eternal debt for Christmas, I’m going to need these baking skills I’ve been ignoring mastering.

All in all, it has been a good year. My children are still alive. I haven’t used my “one” (the one chance I have to nail the husband in the face with no threat of retaliation), and I am still the tattooed, dyed, offensive bitch with a backbone that I’ve always been. I wish you the best in whatever holiday you are celebrating and remember…you’ll never quite be as awesome as I am, but that’s okay. I’m just here to give you a visual image of something to strive for.


You’re welcome.


13 responses to “This Year…Happened”

  1. I love this!! My family too gets a good laugh out of those “perfect family” Christmas cards, so my sister and I write one for just our family that takes a lighthearted approach at ourselves and the happenings of the past year.


    • That’s so awesome! I really felt good after this…it was like therapy. I should do this every year…maybe even mail it out lol.


    • That’s so awesome! I really felt good after this…it was like therapy. I should do this every year…maybe even mail it out lol.


  2. That was to funny to read. what a year it has been for sure. and than mine. uhm uhm yeah that is about it. I was still hiding underneath a rock somewhere until September. But here I am.
    Loved the tattoos. I need to finish mine still lol.
    Have a great holiday season. dusting of the kitchen appliances.
    You are awesome.


  3. I read this on my phone yesterday while driving through torturous Christmas shopping traffic and it kept me sane! Love it. I’m way jealous that you have been domesticated… Though I’m very poor help in the kitchen so there’s probably no hope of this ever working out for me.
    That’s hilarious about people un-friending you on facebook– I had to start a completely new facebook just to get away from all the awkward. There was a night where about 30 people all deleted me in one swoop… I had no clue why but it turned out my brother had made a stir in some public forum (he’s kind of… well known in certain circles) and my whole family had been blacklisted. It was amazing. I wrote this insanely aggressive-aggressive letter and then posted it in a facebook note because I’m a horrible human like that. Ugh, that was a special time.
    Also: You’re pretty spot on about college students. It’s painful. The only way I ever survived was to look for ways to be subtly subversive… like when I had to write a composition in Spanish I turned it into something that had girls dancing on tables and lots of beer and infidelity. My poor professors probably gave me A’s just to get rid of me.
    Huzzah, what a year! Let’s leave it behind and get to a new one PLEASE!


    • You are jealous of the domestication? And you read this WHILE driving?!?! -Wags finger- Now then…come on over and allow me to show you how sweatpants, wine, and blogging make all the domestication seem like such a fun thing. Then I will allow you to make sugar cookies with the children and you will quickly form new opinions…I’m quite sure 😀 I wasn’t meant for an apron, and I’ll never be featured in Better Homes and Who the Eff Has Time to Garden.


      • Hahahahaha okay okay I’m jealous of my false notions of being domesticated…. like…. I want to just lounge about the house all day writing award winning fiction and eating bon-bons. Are you telling me that’s NOT what you’re doing?!

        And! I was in stop and go traffic so it doesn’t count that I was reading 😉 The brake was always applied! Sugar cookies sound fun though…


        • I WISH that’s what I was doing…that sounds much better than washing clothing and scrubbing the pee from around the toilet (gods help my son, he’s trying so hard to learn to aim).

          And Sugar Cookies are not fun. They are Satan spawn with decorative icing.


    • And your family got blacklisted? How did he do it?! I must know his secret…I’ve been trying to get blacklisted for years.


  4. […] I was pale before it was cool. I had the porcelain skin tone nailed down and perfected. Not like Mother Nature was going to give me a choice…the sun simply turns me into a shade resembling cherry tomatoes. The best part about oober pale skin??? My tattoos look brand new. I’m not out in the sun, so they don’t fade as fast. The colors stand out nice and bright. And hey, let’s face it…I have some awesome tattoos. […]


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