Sunday, January 29, 2006

Latey McGaucheness

It's January 29th. I have not sent 10 Christmas cards, 9 thank you notes, my aunt and uncle's Christmas presents, nor any thank you notes yet for the nice people offering to throw engagement parties. This does not bode well for the coming onslaught of thank you notes I must slave over for wedding and shower presents. Doom. It occurs to me that it would help if I were capable of writing notes like this:

Dear So and So,
Thank you so much for the lovely ____. I'm sure it will come in very handy for ________. A.S. and I will doubtless use it often to _____ and will think of you _____. Best wishes and thank you again for the wonderful ____.

Fondly,
Jemima.

In place of _____, please insert:
a. fork
b. gouging out my eyes after writing too many goddamn thank you notes
c. pinning up our sex trapeze
d. naked
e. hemorrhoid

It's just like Mad Libs!

Only I can't write those. We've all gotten them and they just make you pissed that you didn't keep that really cool gift for yourself and instead regift them a tupperware lid holder...or a salad spinner. Only, I actually could use a salad spinner right now for the bollocking South Beach rabbit diet I keep pretending to be on. Anyway, I actually sit down and write some long chatty letter to people with genuine feeling. And that takes time and effort and concentration, and I kind of have to be in the mood to do it.

Obviously that mood has been in scant supply recently, so it's time to force the gratitude here. I've pulled out my stationery (must get rid of the stuff before the big Name Change, and I have BOXES of it. Drawerfuls! Tons and tons! I am something of a stationery whore, and a lot of it has my name or monogram and our family burgee on it.) and have been avoiding eye contact with it out of guilt. But it's time to get down to business. I must thank my other godmother for the Tiffany lamp pattern umbrella and matching (diaper?) bag. And my aunt and uncle for the dressmaker's bust photo stands (what?). And my sister for the computer bag that also looks like a black quilted diaper bag (my ovaries better be withering where they belong, or the medical community has a lot to answer for). She must have had babies on the brain when she bought it. You know...all I wanted was the green Patagonia messenger bag for Christmas, and did anyone in my family buy it for me? No. They did not. Nor did anyone purchase the black dress coat I wanted. Instead, Mom found a suit, which I'm sure was quite costly judging from the packaging, which has an unflattering bustley deal behind the knee, which I unfortunately did not notice as I was running late and ripped the tags out and wore it before stopping short at the reflection of my unflattering rear half in the office restroom. DOOM! So I can't return it and get something useful...like a goddamned BLACK DRESS COAT! And I have to thank mom for it, starting now.

Dear Mom.
Thank you very much for the lovely bustle suit. I will wear it often...and think of you fat.

2 comments:

roo said...

I had the hardest time writing my thank you's after the wedding-- took full advantage of that year that some of the etiquette books say a bride has to get the job done (I honestly think a year is far too long to wait for a thank you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.)

Part of the difficulty was that, like you, I didn't want the letters to sound rote. But sometimes, high standards get in the way of moving on with life. It felt SO GOOD when I finally finished them all.

Nothing But Bonfires said...

How can you have a bustle behind the KNEE? No, honestly, how? Can you draw me a picture? Or send me a link or something? I'm curious.