Merry Christmas

Christmas Eve was pretty lazy, we went to the store and bought a giant ham. Apparently Dave REALLY likes ham--who knew? Seven years of marriage and I didn't. Christmas for me kicked off when we went down to Wollman Rink and skated until closing time. That stupid Mariah Carey song is still stuck in my head though. We checked out the Bergdorf windows again and then went home. Dave kept the sofa warm while I went to midnight mass at St. Jean Baptiste. I love St. Jean Baptiste--it's French, it's gorgeous, it has a fabulous organ and choir and the priests give cool homilies tying Christmas into pagan rituals. Actually it was the most depressing Christmas homily I've ever heard, but it's working because it's stuck in my mind. Why did the church choose December 25th to celebrate Christ's birth? Because of the pagan celebrations of light triumphing over dark after the winter solstice. Christ=light and all that. Then he brought us down to the depths of despair by talking about the darkness of the world today and how we need the light/peace. He preached tolerance and love and charity and thanks for the lives we live here in the city--that's when things started to get better and he left us on a high note of Christmas cheer. So, Christmas Eve was pretty much just what I needed. I enjoyed one of my favorite NYC things, Wollman Rink, and then got a hefty dose of childhood comfort, the ritual of church--the carols (French carols!) and incense and a few words of wisdom.

Christmas Day has brought us much ham, football and presents sent by family and friends. I only missed my family when we opened gifts--I missed watching them open their gifts. It was weird to be just the two of us. Weird, but nice. We've been in our pajamas all day. I've been knitting, Dave's been watching football, we shared the cooking duties and a bottle of wine. Peace reigns in our little home today. May it also find its way to you and yours. Merry Christmas.

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Happy Fucking Holidays

Every year I get stressed and freaked out with the planning and shopping and cooking and what-not. Last year was extra fun because I was in a show from Thanksgiving to right before Christmas. And I had two jobs. You want to talk about not having time to deal? That was a freakin' nightmare. It all came to a glorious head at Christmas Day dinner. The turkey is on the table, family is gathered round and by the light of the candles my brother and I had THE ARGUEMENT. The arguement to end all arguements. THE ARGUEMENT was followed by THE GREAT SILENCE OF 2004. I fucking hate the fucking holidays.

I keep trying to figure out why. There aren't any major childhood episodes that point to it. I think several of my nine cases of pneumonia coincided with Christmas, but Santa still came with presents. So, no lingering childhood resentment. It might have been the year my grandmother told me my cabbage patch doll was the ugliest thing she'd ever seen. Maybe? That doesn't seem quite dramatic enough. I think I'll just go with what all the magazines say--general holiday blahs.

The other thing (well, THE thing) that bugs me about the holidays is that it all seems to come down to me. I've been married for seven years now and each of those holiday seasons I've been the one to do all the shopping, write all the cards and handle whatever baking/cooking needed to be done. I think it was just that I was the person who had the time to do it. I don't think Dave ever maliciously thought that his little wife should be the one to do it all (although in my worst moments I totally accuse him of this). I don't think I ever had that stupid thought of "I'm super-woman" and I can handle it! It just sort of evolved into "Jenny handles it all". Can you imagine what I'll be like if I ever have a child? OH GOD!

We're not going anywhere this year so we won't have the stress of sitting on I-95 for twelve hours or the severe boredom of Horseheads, NY to deal with, but the impending doom of the holiday is still there. It's just us--we could fucking order Chinese. BUT NO--I've started to wonder what little feast I should prepare to make it CHRISTMAS! I turned to Dave yesterday morning and said, "Maybe we should get a goose". A GOOSE?!?! Are you out of your fucking mind, woman?!?! Okay, okay...maybe cornish game hens?

I'm trying people, I really am. We threw a party (well, you know I really did--I sent the invites, made all the food, bought the wine...) last weekend. Festive! We went to our neighbor's party. More fest! I finished all the shopping and card writing by Monday at 5:15 (exact time the cards went into the mail at at the Astor Place Post Office). Last night we went to another little party. I was bored off my ass--it was Dave's beer geeks (for the record merle is french for blackbird) so what did I expect...I ended up seeking refuge with my friends and vodka after that. I did not find festiveness in that glass of vodka either. (surprise, surprise) That might have been because I was too busy sharing my misery. Merci beaucoup pour écouter à moi, M. R. So happy fucking holidays I've ended up being a total fucking cliché--in bar, feeling miserable three days before Christmas. Don't tell my mother.

Personal resolution is to stop caring. I'm going to lay in a supply of puff pastry, cheesy old movies (Christmas in Connecticut!) and maybe I'll cruise the aisles at Citarella and find something festive for dinner. If it's too crowded in there, I'm out though--we'll just have stew or something easy. I'm grabbing my skates and heading to Wollman Rink! If that can't get me in the Christmas spirit abso-fucking-lutely nothing will. So Happy Christmas everyone...I raise a glass to you and hope you don't have the miseries too.

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Could be worse...I guess

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Second Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Very Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	High
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

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I MET DR. RUTH!!!

Due to a work conflict Dave couldn't attend the opening of "La Cage aux Folles" so Janis asked moi to be her date. Darling, I'll go out on the town with you anytime--so long as you forgive me for falling down stairs occasionally. The show was fabulous--love, love, love les cagelles! And the after party was very cool. (Who was that guy I was dancing with again? He was fabulous--can we find him and go out with HIM again?) Thank god Janis was there to point out the famous people because I'm the type of person who can stand three feet away from Joan Collins and miss it (yes, I did). BUT I did not miss Dr. Ruth!!! She very graciously agreed to pose for a photo with us! How cool is that?!?!

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And a good time was had by all...

It's been a busy past week here at Chez Gill-Witzel--last Sunday was my nephew's baptism. And I'm the proud Godmother! Colin thrilled us all when he agreed to wear the family christening gown. It's 120 years old and he was such a little cutie in it!

Dear Little Colin, I promise to try to be a good godmother to you. I'll do all the responsible things your parents want and I also promise to be here for you when you cut class and come into Manhattan with your buddies and miss the last train back to New Jersey. Of course it would be easier if you'd just call us and ASK to come for a visit--not as cool, but you'd save us all a lot of grief. I'm just saying...

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Thanksgiving--a week late.

Over the weekend we girls did the big walk up Fifth Avenue to see all the Holiday windows and to view the tree before it was lit.

Cartier was doing what they do best and appealing to the women with big, shiney tiaras as awnings...I LOVE this!

Saturday evening Kevin and Susan and Colin (!) came to visit for dinner. He was obligingly cute.

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