I hadn't been blogging because my camera isn't working. But as of today I won't have computer access. I got fired today. "Restructured" I believe is the term, since it had nothing to do with me or my performance. But it will be a while before you hear from me.

I haven't been blogging, and I would go into the whole story of why, but Juno already did so I don't have to. It's at times like this that I'm glad I'm a blogger and not a writer, because there are so many really great writers out there who can say exactly what is going on in my head but so much better. Read her post and then come back. Go on.

Judging from the comments, Juno and I aren't the only ones who feel this way either! It's the holidays, which in my case (and others' evidently) means spending time with people who are supposed to know me best and really don't know me at all, combined with not being the person that I ever dreamed that I would be. I sit in my parents' living room looking at my sorority picture, taken when I was thin and young and promising and nothing was dead inside. In Meredith's words, I was bright and shiny. 20 years later ... not so much.

But I'm not posting to whine. I want to tell you about this holiday thing from my own unique perspective. Though I just illustrasted how we're all the same and complete strangers can post what's been marinating in my own brain, no one else has my aunt. Yes, dearies, it's time for the latest installment of "I may be a Spinster too, but I will never be like YOU!"

In case you think she's sent me another hellacious and unwanted gift, nope. I think that was just a desperate and failed plea for attention phase. This year she announced to the family while dessert was being served that my father's birthday cake was actually hers. Yes, read that again. She claimed that my father's birthday cake, on the day before his birthday, a cake which my mom has been making for his birthday for as long as I can remember, was actually hers because it was her (and mom's) mother's recipe and therefore she had loved it longer than my dad so the cake was really hers. There are no words. There is no boundary on this woman's self-absorption, no light that could illuminate for her how she offends the people she tries so desperately to get to like her. In fact, she thinks she is beloved and that we wait eagerly for holidays so we can hear for the 36th time how her pension works or her HDL level or the people she meets on eBay. For the love of all that is pure and holy, please someone, anyone, inject her with a dose of reality.

I am not the only one who feels this way, and my parents have about had it with her. Mom has decided that this year, the first ever, that xmas if for her and daddy and her daughters and the good one's husband and that is all. Xmas will be celebrated with the aunt the following weekend. No drama, no angst, no gritting of teeth - just a nice quiet holiday with her family.

You'd think I'd be ecstatic, right? You'd think I'd be doing somersaults in the front yard or bursting into Julie Andrews songs or something. I'm not. Can you guess why? Come on, you can do it. Just think for a second. Yep, you in the back! What? This makes me the odd one out again, the loser, the resident spinster? The one who talks about nothing that anyone else cares about (as in ipods, cell phones, working in a cubicle, prisons, and anything by or about or in Japanese?) YES! Now I have to sit quietly in the corner and knit. Isn't that what I did before???

Obligatory Knitting Content: 5 rows left on Kiri. Woot!

And about the Yamapi thing, I still think he's absolutely precious but I'm not going to share anymore. The thundering silence in the comments was a good clue. As long as I can pick up on those, I won't turn into my aunt. I hope. Oh, god, I hope not.