Monday, December 12, 2011


"From now on I want to buy a new pair of Ugg boots for each of the kids every Christmas," said a very spoiled woman wearing $700 hair extensions and $300 designer jeans.

(Ugg boots are $150 a pop.  Some people say they are Uggly.  But I think they are super cozy and Huggly for your feet)

"These are the ONLY jeans I will wear!  I don't like how other brands make my bottom look.  I work hard for this bottom.  I DESERVE expensive jeans," she said when questioned about the extravagance of her taste.

I was friends with this woman at the time but I as I look back I realize I don't like her very much.

That woman was me.  Moi.  Yo.

Yes.  Just a couple of years ago I was careless and frivolous and selfish.  I can admit that now.  It doesn't even hurt anymore.

I have been through the refiner's fire.

Tonight my husband asked me what I wanted for Christmas this year.

"I want you to write me a list tonight," he said.  "It should have at least 12 things.  We don't have the money to get it wrong."

My mind went blank.  I don't want nothin'.



Actually, that's not true.  Before the housing boom that made the entire world overspend and incur serious debt, I was humble and child bearing with vomit on my shoulder and sorta frumpy, even.  ( I remember THINKING I was hot though.  Even with the frizzy hair and all.  Weird.  Confidence is everything, ya'll).

I shopped sales and thrift stores.  I cut my own hair.  Bangs.  Bad bad bangs.  I bought my makeup at Walgreens (and not the expensive stuff neither... I'm talkin' Wet N' Wild here, folks.)

During The Boom, Chanel and Prada and Valentino showed up under the tree in solid gold bows delivered by Cupid himself.  They were close friends of mine, Chanel and Cupid. My husband derived as much joy as I did at gift giving time.  He dressed me like a million dollar Barbie doll.  It made him look good too.


I can't think of what to write on my list.

Here is a tentative, timid list... (I'm not gonna get all sappy and start listing stuff like world peace and puppies and a star named after me... This is material goods only that I kinda want, sorta but I'm totally cool without...)

1.  A snug, black Victoria's Secret Zip up Sweatshirt.  (The one I got last year is mangled and pilling cuz I wear it night and day.)

2.  Black Victoria's Secret sweatpants boyfriend cut.   (Despite the pants I desire, I don't have a boyfriend beyond my husband.  In addition, any man that can fit his thighs into my pants is not for me.  I like THICK THIGHED MEN.  We've had this convo, you and I.  My husband's thighs are literally thicker than my waist.  No joke.  Even when I'm bloated!)

3.  See... here is where I start struggling... ummm... boots??  Yeah.  Boots.  You can never have too many sexy boots.  I'd like some flat sexy ones though, which means they have to go up past my knees.  I have a ga-billion 4 inch heeled boots already.  (Luckily, my boot collection was not burned in the refiner's fire... Phew!!)

4. Yoga passes to that one studio I used to be able to afford twice weekly.  It smells like hippies and makes me feel authentic when I practice there.  Ommmmm....  Namaste.

5.  Long sleeved shirt that is not too short for my uber long torso.  I'd like to keep my backside covered when I lean over, Thank you.  I'd prefer the shirt in black.

6. Christmas socks.  With Santa and reindeer and frosty and lights that flicker on and off when I sneeze or laugh or choke on a chicken bone.

7.  Lay's plain potato chips and a pint of french onion dip on Christmas day.  You know the kind, right?  You gotta buy the sour cream and then get the little packet of powder onion flavor stuff to pour in and mix.  I'd like to watch It's A Wonderful Life and cry in my onion dip.

8.  Pecan pie.

9.  Maybe I should ask for a top that is not black.  Mmmk.  Yup.  A not black top.

10.  A cozy sweater.  Red?  No wool.  I'm allergic.  I get all itchy and miserable in wool.  Target might have a not wool one.  Anthro has a lovely red one on sale but it has wool so... that's out.

11. World Peace

12.  A star named after me

Puppies poop on the carpet.

What material possession do YOU kinda want?