I’m trapped inside a cottage with four dogs and some miscellaneous wildlife–mice I think–that have decided that four dogs is less of a threat than the sub-zero temps and no food. I’m okay with that; chasing screaming after the skittering in the next room is the only exercise these guys are getting since once they get outside the snow is taller than they are. The good news: If they can make it up over the edge of the shoveled walk, they can run all they want because the snow is covered with ice. Yes, that’s the good news. read more >>
And here we are again. Another year’s end, another year beginning, another refusal to make resolutions because I can’t plan for the weekend, let alone a whole year. Instead, I have intentions. I intend to do this stuff. If I don’t do it, hey, I changed my mind. It’s not like I resolved to do this stuff. I didn’t promise the universe anything. There is no obligation and no guilt-inducing salespeople will call. Not even my mother who, when I called to tell her I’d sold my first novel, said, “Well, don’t forget your PhD.” Because you start resolving to do something and Guilt shows up at your door with a list. “Remember when you said you were gonna lose fifteen pounds by 2011? IT’S 2015 AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T LOST THOSE POUNDS.” Yeah, fuck Guilt and his much worst cousin, Shame, something I haven’t been on speaking terms with for forty years.
Hanukkah was over yesterday, Christmas ends tonight at midnight, Kwanza starts tomorrow, and I’m sure there are other celebrations I’ve missed (Winter Solstice, Deb?) so here’s wishing you all a fabulous whatever and an even more fabulous 2015.
And in the fine old Argh tradition (2010, 2011, 2013) here’s the official Argh Christmas carol. Because the Drifters work for any any day any where, no matter what they’re singing.
Jennifer Crusie is the New York Times, USA Today, and Publisher’s Weekly bestselling author of twenty novels, one book of literary criticism, miscellaneous articles, essays, novellas, and short stories, and the editor of three essay anthologies. She lives in a cottage in New Jersey surrounded by deer, bears, foxes, and dachshunds, where she often stares at the ceiling and counts her blessings.