So as I mentioned earlier, I’m sending out New Year’s cards instead of Christmas cards this year (due to my usual lack of organization and punctuality in this department). Many of you, I assume, are reading this as a result of receiving said card and not receiving my annual holiday letter. Instead, you got a lousy sticker directing you to this blog. That’s because number one, I’m lazy, and two, I’ve basically been writing a holiday letter every time I blog, so I figured, why double the workload — which basically just takes us back to reason number 1.
And incidentally, if you’re reading this, personally know me, and don’t receive a New Year’s card, it isn’t because I don’t love you. Please see reason number one, above.
A little background — I’ve been writing my somewhat infamous holiday letter for 15 years now (that’s a mind-blower). Back then, it was a sort of antidote to people writing things like, “We took our trip to Barbados to celebrate Brently’s acceptance to Oxford. Who would have guessed we’d meet so many celebrities and find the lost treasure of the Aztecs during our sojourn!” Since then — and I like to think I had something to do with this — many of my friends send hysterical letters with their best quotes and stories from throughout the year, the funniest of which do not typically include things like Brently, Oxford, or sojourns (unless Brently got food poisoning from a Lebanese taco stand and puked on his Oxford uniform during their sojourn).
Now, some people love my yearly letter. Look forward to it. Even feel the year is incomplete without it. Other people. . . well, it’s hard to say. Turns out, I’m slightly opinionated, and some people aren’t, well, of the same opinion. So now that we’re not sending letters to anyone at all, if you aren’t into it, you don’t even have to log on. Problem solved.
One small glitch in this new plan is that with my blog anonymity, it’s going to be slightly tricky working around the details of our usual update. All-in-all, the whole anonymity thing is fairly ridiculous, considering everyone who reads this knows exactly who I am (at least I think they do). But when I’m famous, I’m sure I’ll be glad I did it:).
So, first of all, Happy Holidays Late. Hope everyone had a good 2009. Ours kind of sucked. I say “kind of” because my mom died, so that obviously falls into the sucking category. But relatively speaking, the rest of the year went pretty well. After toiling for almost two years, we watched the Obamas move into the White House. Tenzin had a three month “vacation” after new management came in and made his emergency room unfit for humans and higher primates (he quit the place until they came to their senses and fired the new management — love that corporate America). After months of handwringing over where to send the kids to school, we finally relaxed when Newt and Elfie moved from their hippie Waldorf school to their hippie Montessori school. And I got a job for a whopping four months before I got annoyed, decided it wasn’t fun anymore, and quit.
So that pretty much sums up the year: grieving, unemployed, and still playing Russian roulette with the children’s futures. I turned 40, Tenzin turned 41, and we’ve pathetically started feeling like we’re 40 and 41. And I hate to break this to all of you, but. . . we’re getting old. I used to get your cards every year and think, “See, we all haven’t changed that much.” Um, we’ve all changed that much. Don’t get me wrong — you all look great. For old people. But we’re definitely the parents in the picture. I’d feel sad about it except that, as they say, getting older is better than the alternative.
Now for the part of our program that makes civilized dinner party guests around the world wince — the political commentary! I’m going to steal from Bill Maher’s New Rules:
• If you expected the country to be fixed in one year after having someone screw it up for eight, you’re delusional. My 5-year-old runs around waving a magic wand, but even she knows it doesn’t actually work. I know we’ve all gotten used to news-by-the-second and texting and tweeting, but there are certain things you just can’t rush. It’s kind of like after having a baby — sure you’d like to wake up the next morning and have all of your parts back the way they were before, but that takes time and work. And even if you started training like an Olympic athlete, you still probably wouldn’t end up as good as you used to be. Why? Because the person running things for the previous nine months knew he’d be jumping ship after maxing out the place, and someone else would have to deal with the clean up.
• Get over Sarah Palin already. Just because she’s spunky and “real people” doesn’t mean she should be running the country. I’m spunky and “real people” and neither should I. And I even know that Africa is a continent, not a country. But then, so does my 5-year-old (who is really spunky and really “real people”. . .).
• If one out of every 110 children in this country is actually autistic, I’ll go buy a Sarah Palin “book” and have her sign it, “To Sunny, So glad you finally came to your senses! Hugs, Sarah.”
• Brit Hume and every other ignorant Fox commentator/watcher needs to understand that becoming a Christian doesn’t guarantee that you’ll become a good person. Theoretically speaking, it may even set you up for becoming an even worse person because you’ll get an infinite number of “do-over’s” (sin, repent, forgive, rinse, repeat). Compassion and respect for one’s self and others is strongest when driven by internal will and the desire to do good for the sake of doing good. Not by the external threat of being punished with the ambiguous and intangible idea of eternal damnation. Put more bluntly, adults behave ethically because they know it’s the right thing to do. Children behave ethically because they’re told to do so by other people. So, ask yourself — would you rather have a society filled with adults who act like adults or with adults who have to be policed like children? If it helps, I think the former would cost less money.
• No one else is allowed to spend any more time or money on studies pertaining to the fact that children “do better” when they spend time outside, commune with nature, watch less TV, play fewer video games, talk to their families, or engage in any activity wherein they’re looking an actual human being in the face. If you don’t already know this, you’re an idiot and should not be procreating. Get some birth control. Today.
Okay, I think that’s more than enough. For those of you who’ve joined me for this first and last time, I’m honored. For those who’ve opted to stick it out year after year, most likely because you just can’t stop watching the car wreck, I’m equally honored (you’re a bunch of masochistic freaks). Here’s hoping 2010 looks better than 2009.
All our lovin’,
Sunny, Tenzin, Newt, Elfie, and Uno
P.S. Our email is now at gmail.com
Tammy Soong is a writer, wife, and mom from Reno, Nevada. She takes an absurd amount of pain medication, but not enough to have actually named her children "Newt" and "Elfie." She spends most days stressing out over clutter, writing stuff for this place, and working on podcasts with her gal pals, the Blogging Betties.