A Christmas Collage

Here's what Christmas looked like this year:



There were shots with everyone's favorite broad-shouldered Navy boy at Amy and Becky's annual Christmas party. I got so drunk I forgot to take pictures. I got so drunk Becky pointed at me in the middle of the party and screamed, "YOU'RE DRUNK!" and I told her I wanted to tape her saying that because Katy is always saying she can never tell when I'm drunk.




People kissed Santa Abe under the mistletoe. This was pre my eighteenth drink, after which I cornered some of Amy's work friends and started talking to them about the genius of The Handmaid's Tale.




At my mother's Christmas party, we mixed egg nog, vanilla ice cream, and amaretto. I drank so much it made my stomach hurt.




We took the standard Christmas photos in front of the tree. My brother refused to wear anything but his Sabres shirt. What says Christmas more than Ryan Miller's name and number on your back?




I received an injury when I accidentally ran into my brother while trying to execute the "be cute and kiss your brother like you mean it" pose. Mom caught my pain on film.




We made Adam pose with all the smelly things he got for Christmas: air fresheners, cologne, body wash, deodorant. "I think people are trying to tell you something," I said. Note my freakish man hand in that photo.




My father finally got the thing he's been coveting (in addition to the Scrubbing Bubbles Automatic Shower Cleaner) for a whole year: Sirius Satellite Radio. He spent the morning in his car, hooking it up and listening to his 125 new stations. When I went out to visit him, we tried to tune in the Playboy channel. UPGRADED SUBSCRIPTION NECESSARY, the screen blinked. "Bummer," my father said.




At the annual Pink Torpedo Party we were one member short, but that didn't diminish the number of martinis we drank, nor did it stop the good time gift giving. Here is Anne posing with a spork she got from Steph.




Here are two saucy girls--Amy and Anne--showing off this year's signature drinks: Ruby Red martinis and lime vodka martinis.




Steph also bought us Jell-O shots called Suck-n-Blows, where one person blows into one end of the tube and the other person sucks the Jell-O out. They tasted foul. They tasted like red wine that's been left out in eighty degree summer heat for two months.




Amy may or may not have drank some of my saliva along with the Jell-O.




And here we are, the Pink Torpedoes (minus Becky) in our annual in-front-of-the-tree photo.