what, pray tell, has happened to Christmas music these days???

Ok, let's first get the fact that I was raised on Manheim Steamroller Christmas tunes out of the way so that we're all on the same page about what I consider to be REAL christmas music. If it's not George Winston on the keys or Amy Grant singing about snow in Colorado or some strange synth interpretation of Carol of the Bells, it's just sub-par.

HOWEVER - we've got a radio station here in beautiful RAINY Seattle that plays nothing but Christmas tunes from Thanksgiving day right up to New Year's Day or something ridiculous. It's the "soft rock" adult contempo station you love to hate the rest of the year, but for this month of the year (due to work prohibiting online radio for bandwidth reasons during the work day) I listen to "Warm Christmas Favorites" all day, every day.

I can deal with the Carpenters sucking the joy right out of traditional Christmas carols, I can deal with the Beatles "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmastime" because - uh, if you can't get away from 'em, embrace 'em - but do we really need FIVE - count 'em, FIVE - renditions of "Last Christmas," that venemous tune about giving some undeserving soul your heart for Christmas and having it handed to you the "very next day?" Thanks, George Michael for inflicting the unecessary first rendition on us (we'll forgive you, you were probably strung out and recorded it wearing nothing but Wellies and a Santa hat), but really - did Savage Garden, Jimmy Eat World, Hilary Duff AND (I cross myself even as I type this) the CHEETAH GIRLS really need to put their own nauseating spin on a song that ought not have been recorded, let alone inflicted upon our unsuspecting Christmas spirits at all in the first place???? Can't a girl just listen to her Bing Crosby and Perry Como in peace? Wilson Phillips, "Santa Baby" is this close to being a Christmas felony.

Yes, Mariah Carey completely DE-Christmas-ized "O Holy Night," and there's something creepy about N'Sync serenading me with some lame ballad that happens to contain the word "Christmas" somewhere in it's lyrics and therefore qualifies as a Holiday Song.

Give me Rosemary Clooney, give me Harry Connick, give me Dean Martin and Alvin & the Chipmunks, even Joan Baez ferheavenssake - sure, I can handle a healthy dose of 80's holiday cheese (hence the Manheim Steamroller that I can't decorate a tree without), but at least keep the roots in something "Christmas-ee."

Yes, that means YOU "American Idols." I'm onto your "Great Holiday Classics." Justin Guarini is probably enough to make me set my tree on fire.

welcome home, tiny bubbles

Alright, I promise not to have a hokey "champagne" reference in every post. Just this first one...or two...or until I run out of "subtle" ways to incorporate it into a title. We'll see...

And - as an explanation by way of example:

I'm terrible at exercise. I've yet to find a way to stay warm and dry AND have fun that manages to burn calories and get my heart rate up for any reasonable amount of time. Everytime I find something that seems like fun, I stick with it for a few weeks, then get bored and jump ship.

Same goes for haircolors. I was born with one of those "non" color haircolors - somewhere in between light brown and dark blonde and muddy auburn. So I change it every few months. I've been flaming red, been bleached blonde, been straight black...I just get tired of looking in the mirror and seeing the same thing, day after day...so why not change it up. Hair's not falling out yet, so it's got a little life left in it.

Do the same thing with clothes...shoes...favorite foods. Get tired of everything after a little while.

Stands to reason a blog would get the same way...

I got a little soft...too much rambling about wedding stuff, too few posts, cop-out picture slide shows...lazy stuff like that. I think I'd been staring at the same blog for awhile. I wanted to start fresh.

I know, I know, it's "trendy" right now to go mysteriously absent and then come back reinvented. Believe me: not trying to be trendy. Trying to find a batch of fresh inspiration, find my voice again, come up with something that motivated me.

I've got no major milestones like weddings and honeymoons looming ahead of me, so I'll have to rely on more abstract inspiration. But, who says that contentment can't be inspiring, too? Who says that happy and comfortable and at peace can't create an ongoing dialogue. Who says that I can't feel both sublime and creative at the same time?

SO - in honor of happiness, here's my new ode to suburban content - it's life on the up-and-up in a tiny, one-bedroom apartment. It's simple pleasures. It's being satisfied with where I'm at. It's creativity borne from the warm-fuzzies. It's going to bed with a smile on my face. It's champagne rising.