You do it to me every year, Christmas. Tantalize me with the waxy-creamy, delectably fattening facade of Christmas Tree Cakes only to lure me into a dark alley and beat the living snot out of me with demands of Christmas cards to write, packages to wrap, and children to appease while still appeasing demanding relatives. If Dean Martin's voice is the cocktail of Christmas, Christmas Tree Cakes are the date-rape drug dropped in it, leaving me with a hangover of New Years resolutions. Here's to Christmas: it's the most wonderful time of the year!
As I reached for my favorite coffee cup today, I realized the value of friendship. My mother used to tell me that even if you only had one true friend in life, you were blessed. So, what is a true friend? I could wax poetic, lift phrases from cross-stitched pillows and greeting cards but let's be real: a true friend is one you can talk about poop with. And, not the shoot-the-$hit or gossip-y talking $hit, but the real deal. I thought of the true meaning of friendship while reaching for my coffee cup because my dear friend, Elise, gave me this mug. Besides the fact that it's black and white (my fav.) it has tints of neon green (her fav.) and who in the world is complete without an Albert Einstein picture on something they own? I laughed as I pulled the cup out of the cabinet remembering the day I got it. In the bag she gave me was this herbal tea which just happens to be a pretty strong colonic: we affectionately like to call it, "Poop Tea." (Sometimes, we all need a little help, right?) I feel the gift is symbolic of our friendship-- funny, full of wit and great taste, and, well, reality. Great friends support you through the thick and thin of life-- they're steady through the good $hit and the bad. So, I raise my cup of Poop Tea to Elise and to all other great friends I have near and far. Cheers!