Whenever I hit my folks house around the holidays, the first thing I do is go through their pile of Christmas cards and judge everyone. Last night, after a lovely dinner at Vasco with my mother, I sat in the kitchen and shuffled through the stack of photo cards and update letters.
We’ve never been big ones for Christmas cards. I think my father sends out some highly religious propaganda to a select few, but the rest of us have nothing to do with it. A couple of years ago, Bonnie and I sent out a roommate photo card, although it retrospect, it looked like we were announcing our lesbian union or the fact that we both had fabulous hair. I also recall the highly cheesy move of one of us signing in red, the other in green. I tried to talk Zoe into something similar and she looked at me like I was nuts.
Anyway, as I dug through the array, I marveled at how one can tell so much by looking at a stupid holiday card. From disgruntled 20 something’s forcing smiles to an entire law firm captured cuddling their pets, my folks get some crazy shit.
As I read some rambling diatribe about kids I grew up with who were never really that nice to begin with, I was horrified to learn that for all intensive purposes, their lives are flawless. They’re either becoming doctors and lawyers or marrying them, buying houses and cars and popping out kids with trendy names or impacting policy reform and global change. They might as well be saving the earth from a meteor, these people are all so much better than I am.
So, in my never-ending need to win, I figured I might as well make a letter up and send it in response to all of the cards my folks get. It’s not like anyone would actually check the facts. Here’s what I’ve got so far:
“Not that you asked, but Beth and Alex are fabulous. So fabulous, in fact, they’re considering launching their own, self-titled magazine. Alex is currently negotiating with a major sports franchise to manage their front office, and is looking forward to his annual month volunteering in the Middle East. Currently fluent in Farsi and Arabic, Alex hopes to spend the holidays finalizing an independent peace treaty and promoting alternative energy to oil rich countries. Beth has finally recovered from the devastating moral blow she experienced by unwittingly ending the Newsom union and is taking a short break from her column at Vanity Fair while she and Gavin house hunt on the Upper West Side and begin fundraising for a presidential campaign (shhhhh.) After the Pulitzer whirlwind, Beth is relaxing by spending the holidays rebuilding New Orleans and hosting her annual Paris Fashion Week Beth Ball in celebration of her own fabulousness, co-hosted this year by the charming George Clooney. We could not be more pleased that our children flawless, wonderful perfect humans, not to mention fantastically attractive and interesting and look forward to nothing but immense happiness, disgusting wealth and unparalleled fame”