Where's An Elf When You Need One?

sure hope my regulator works, because I feel like I've been swimming really hard and am about to go underwater before I even get to the Galapagos.

Have I mentioned that I don't feel like it's Christmas this year? Or that I'm so busy that I havnn't had time to blog or send cards (well, that happens most years, I'm really horrible about it) or buy everyone who deserves them their proper presents.

Usually by now I've had my "Holy Stuffed Stockings Batman, I haven't done nearly enough for the holidays" panic attack and run to the shops spending way too much to overcompensate for lack of planning. This year, I have twinges of that, but no real drama, just twinges of "oh Bob, you really could have done better. This is beneath you." I love my inner Addison DeWitt.

I'm not becoming a scrooge, and I'm not becoming my father, but I do feel really disconnected from the holdays. Maybe I'll have some weird breakdown in Miami on Wednesday night, or in Quito on Christmas Eve. Or maybe the Lipitor has really kicked in and I just don't get as worked up as I used to.

What's Christmas like in Ecuador?? Ask me next week.

I do feel guilty though, like I'm not being the good uncle or the good friend or the good whatever. And that kinda makes me sad. It's so hard to want to be perfect and realize you're miles off target.

Maybe I'm just maudlin and full of self pity.

And magnificent.

Perhaps I'll just breathe and "be" and realize that even though I'm spinning like a dreidl on crack, the rest of the world is full of goodness and light and that just because I've been a schmuck about buying gifts doesn't mean my heart isn't full of love for everybody. That's what Buddha would do, right? The zen of Christmas.

Maybe I'll send Xmas presents in March this year. Just to be non-conformist.

Who knows?

I do know that i've heard George Michael sing "Last Year, I Gave You My Heart" 1,347 too many times in the past 2 weeks.

And I do know that it was lovely to have our first houseguest over the weekend. CB came in from a work jaunt in Milan, and we shopped and talked and laughed and had fun with the new London boys (and girls). All was well.

He summed up our new place as a cross between 420 and Cape Fear, which I really hadn't thought of, but it is kind of a good description ... especially now that all the furniture's there.

In 48 hours I'll be on a plane ... so unprepared for this trip, but it's going to happen and I'm going to relax and have a good time, even if it kills me.

There's always next year ... the year which I give up procrastination.