Dear Santa

Dear Santa:

It's been awhile, and that's my fault. I see you in the mall sometimes, and I wonder if you still recognize me. But you're always so busy, posing for photos and ho ho hoing, and it never seems like the right time to come say hi. Anyway, I've wanted to get back in touch, but I don't think the guy on Twitter claiming to be you really is you, so I thought I'd try this.

We used to talk all the time. Well, not talk, exactly, but we had an understanding.  I'd write, and even though you didn't always respond, I always knew you got my letter, because on Christmas morning, exactly what I wanted would be under the tree! Dolls! Games! A puppy!  Most of the time, you hit it out of the park. Most of the time. I think we can both agree that the Barbie Pool Party with floating chaise lounger wasn't exactly a success. It looked awesome, but the second Barbie hopped into that lounger, she sank like the Titanic. Had it not been for Ken's quick thinking (and, let's be honest, his rockin' six pack)  she surely would have become a statistic.



I know it's my fault we stopped talking. Actually, it was Nancy Drew's fault. Of course you sometimes need to send stuff on ahead for our parents to store in the back of the closet.  Otherwise, you'd never get the sleigh off the ground. I can see that now. But I didn't understand it then. I was emotional. And felt a little betrayed.  I probably didn't handle it very well, and I shut you out.

Well, Santa, I'm back. I'm sorry I ever doubted you, and if it's not too presumpuous, there are a few things I'd really like this Christmas.

1) A bottle of something nice and sparkling. French, ideally, although I'm an equal opportunity bubble quaffer. That way, when the two weeks that encompass my birthday, Christmas and New Year's end in the lacklustre fuckery I suspect they will, at least I'll be able to toast 2011's ass out the door with something more refined than Baby Duck. Which is about what I'll be able to afford by then, since I've done approximately zero shopping.

2) I'm not big on electronics, but there is one gadget I'd love to have. Do you have some sort of little filter I can attach to my tv that, everytime a Kardashian comes on, it blocks them out with video of puppies and kittens snuggling together? Sort of like a v-chip for vapidness? That would be awesome. Also, since you have the technology, something that would change Amy Adams' voice so it doesn't make me want to puncture my own eardrums would be great, too.

3) Someone to cook dinner with. Not all of the time. Not even most of the time. But once in awhile would be awfully nice. He must have decent chopping skills and not mock how much I love my salad spinner. Should also really like good cheese and have strong convictions about pizza toppings. I don't think I trust people who say "Oh, it doesn't matter - get whatever." How can it not matter? How?

4) That new Pyrrha pendant with the hand and quill on it. My mother will lose her mind if I ask for another one, and this one is just so lovely. Some girls like diamonds, some prefer pearls, but give me a pendant made from an 19th century wax seal any day.

That's about it. Sure, there are lots of things I'd enjoy (the Complete Calvin and Hobbes, new cookbooks, a higher metabolism), but there's not much I really need. So do what you can, but don't stress out too much, okay? I know how you get. We're a lot alike that way. And hey - I promise not to look in Mom's closet, just in case. Glad we had this talk - I've missed you.