THIS CHRISTMAS MIGHT BE MY LAST? WHO SAYS THINGS LIKE THAT?

Book Status: It hasn't been a week yet, has it?

Newt Status: I'm trying to keep my eyes on my Newt, but I can't help ogling that sleek little silver Mac Notebook. You know, the one you can put in a manila envelope. Yummm... Sorry Newt!

Okay, so there's one Christmas Song that turns me into a completely different person. "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."



Did you know the original lyrics went like this?
"Have yourself a merry little Christmas / It may be your last / Next year we may all be living in the past" and "Faithful friends who were dear to us / Will be near to us no more". (Cue the shooting star, and sing to yourself "The More You Know...")

It May be Your Last? Are you kidding me? Who wrote these lyrics?

Despite the happier version, I think this is the most saddest, most depressingest Christmas song ever. Literally, it triggers something inside my bitsy brain, and I become instantly alone. Like reeeeally alone. Like Sally, in When Harry Met Sally, when she and Harry aren't talking, and she's dragging her Christmas tree down the street, by herself, and the audience is remembering how great it used to be, how last year she had Harry to help her with the tree, and now she's dragging it. Alone. By herself. No life. No man. Nothing but pine needles in her wake.

This song was playing over the loudspeakers at Smith's Marketplace last night, where I was shopping. Alone. I instantly went outside and bought one of their live Christmas trees, and started dragging it, by myself, to my car. But have you ever tried to drag a Christmas tree by yourself in Utah?

First, the salesman tried to stop me.

Guy: "Wait, Ma'am! Let me call someone to help you!"

Me: "No thanks. I have to do this alone."

Guy: "But we have free delivery!"

Me (walking away dejectedly): "No thanks. I don't deserve free delivery. I don't even deserve a man."

A couple more shoppers tried to help me, but I waved them away.

Then, as I was crossing the parking lot, a woman with three kids offered to help me. And I wanted to say to her: "Are you serious? Can't you hear the song playing? How are you even upright in the face of such darkness?"

How come no one offered to help Sally? Is it a Utah thing?


Thankfully, the song was over before I reached my house, because if it had still been playing, my kids would have suddenly transformed into "the little orphan boys that were dropped on my doorstep for me to watch over, because I was alone, and had nothing better to do..."

If you think I'm bad now, just wait til New Years Eve, when all I can think about is everything I DIDN'T accomplish this year. And now it's over.

On a brighter note, it is "The Most Wonderful Time of the Year." Not only is it the Holidays, but it's the time of year when I can store bottles of Diet Coke on my front porch, and they reach that most perfect frosty temperature so that when you open it, it becomes slightly slushy.


If you know where I live, you are more than welcome to stop by and take one. It is, after all, the season of giving. Just make sure you're not singing, or even humming, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."