You Trashed My Christmas

You call that mistletoe...looks kinda small to me

A last minute Christmas gift from the Primitives:

In case any of you are still looking for gifts for little ol' me (nothing that makes me look like a grandmother OK? already feeling old and haggard enough) here are some ideas:

Russian SST

1966 Duesenberg

self explanatory

I am a woman of simple tastes.

Merry Christmas bitches

All I Want For Christmas Is To See You Die

Last week was unmitigated hell, I was seriously depressed for a week which was damn close to me seeking professional help. All I could do was lie on my bed and imagine inventive ways to do myself in. Every time I attempted to pull myself out of it something would go wrong and I would be two levels further down in my personal Inferno.

I wrote a very raw blog post that I chose not to inflict upon you dear constant reader.
Finally on Friday evening I managed to break free of the darkness and start work on a writing assignment. Actually I am feeling rather proud of myself right now. This afternoon I was even dancing around the basement rec room with my youngest daughter. No my heart didn't grow two sizes that day but I am hell of a lot less grinchy right now!

I even survived a rather painful fall on a freshly washed kitchen floor, less haste more speed. Still hurts like the Dickens though.
Oh don't worry about the title of this post, its a line from my new favourite Christmas song:

Merry Christmas to all the guys and gals out there who didn't start that way. I hope Santa brings you a GTO.