Another year has passed and what a year it was!
Our move from Richville went relatively well and this apartment, if not the height of chic, at least has a roof. Of course, moving would never have been an issue if Hubby Dearest hadn't embezzled those funds. Well, the embezzlement was not so much the problem, but covering his tracks sure as hell was. What do they teach them in business school?
So now, he lives in a 12x12 cell and wears an orange jumpsuit. And lovelies, orange is SO not his colour. Makes him look quite green around the gills actually. Truly, they really must revise the colour palette in that place. He seems to be adapting well at least, he has a new friend called Bubba. Big man, seems to treat hubby well - quite taken with him Bubba is. Almost as if... naw. Anyway, it's nice to know he's doing ok.
It's also nice to know that idiot "girlfriend" of his is out in the cold, the bitch. Of course, she'll fall on her feet, they always do that sort ; there'll be another rich idiot man to pick her up and dust her off for another round.
I'd divorce his sorry ass, but I believe in standing by my man, especially when there's a secret account somewhere out in the Caribbean. In a few years we'll be living the life we were meant to live once again. Temporary setback. Yes, that's all it is.
The children are well, as always, at least I think they are.
Adolescent Boy has finally made friends. I'm so happy for him. True, they tend to be a bit rowdy (but they're teenagers, what can you expect) and love doing target practice from car windows, but I consider it building a skill set he never would have built up otherwise. Shooting a moving target while moving yourself seems like it would be really really difficult. I'm proud of my boy for stepping up. I do wonder though, why he has all those small cellophane bags of flour in his room. Maybe he's thinking of starting cooking school! It would be nice to have a cook in the family. People obviously cook much less than they used to if flour is sold in such small bags now. I wonder what the inside of a supermarket looks like...
Teenage Daughter has started a part-time job. She works evenings. A wonderful little go getter Teenage Daughter is. Personally, I think she must be rather cold in those stilettos and minis, especially in the snow, but you know how teenagers are. There's no talking to them. And she seems so popular! A few times, I came home from shopping (times are tough, so I have to keep my spirits up you know!) in the afternoon and she had friends over. Boyfriends. Never the same one though, she goes through men like I don't know what. Such a popular girl. She takes after me in that. I was such a popular teenager, though my mother wouldn't let me have boyfriends in my room. But times change, don't they?
Other Son... well, um.. I'm not sure I have one. There's a bedroom, there's a closed door and there's strange noises coming, I suppose from his computer. He's "gaming" apparently, whatever that means.
The other day, I had a visit from some nice men in suit regarding Other Son, they said they were from some place called Pentagon or something - sounds like that must be a really nice store catering to teenagers, but I don't quite remember, I was leaving to go shopping.... Maybe that was important? If it was, they'll no doubt be back. They mentioned something about hacking. Hacking what? Does Other Son have a hacking cough? Seems I would have heard him, but with the door closed all the time, well, I don't want to intrude...
And so, friends and family, another year comes to an end. It was a trifle trying at times, but this too will pass.
Wishing you a wonderful Holiday Season,
The Smiths
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
And on that note, I bid you all adieu, most probably until the new year. May your holidays be merry and bright and empty of angst and expectations.
13 comments:
Ha ha. One year my mother and I constructed, just for fun, the anti-Chritstmas famliy letter using actual disasters and disgraces from our year.
Enjoy you break!
*sniff* you must be so proud.
merry christmas.
That's my boys...and daughter!
Thank you for your lovely Christmas letter. Your life always makes me so happy for my own. Have a wonderful holiday Jazz, and thanks for the laugh.
Aw, after reading that I feel warm and fuzzy all over! But that’s probably the cabernet. And realizing there are no Smiths in my family tree.
Have a festive holiday, Jazzer, you and yours.
A lovely Christmas letter and it is so nice to catch up with all your happenings.
May you and Mr. Jazz have a wonderful one.
Ah, the Christmas letter. It's turned into a literary form, hasn't it?
A couple of people send us Christmas letters. I've fantasized about writing my own rather horrifying version and sending it to only them. It would mention things like the annoying maggot infestation in the worm farm and the local stray cat crapping in our garden beds.
Happy Christmas!
I will have to e-mail you about a real one that we recieved. The subtext was hilarious.
Orange is inelegant, and so are all of those long diatribes I get from people telling me how wonderful their lives are. I put the photos on the fridge and throw their pre-fab letters in the trash.
Merry Xmas!
I'm loving the notion behind Secret Agent Woman's mom's letter. LOVING IT.
Okay, and so when I started reading this (mind you, I'm terribly sleep-deprived), I got two sentences in and went, "Wait a minute. Whose blog is this again?" I had to check the header and go, "Yea, it's Jazz. I'm where I thought I was."
Love the letter. I like those we receive from friends and relatives, but they'd be better if they had a bit of this in them.
Believe it or not, people actually write letters like that. I got one from someone this year who decided it was important for me to know that one of his daughters was a real mess. I thought it very odd to share so much detail (probably half the letter focused on this aspect of the family's life).
LOL. Very cool.
Post a Comment