I took one of those Are You A Snob? quizzes online, and it turns out I'm even worse than the Paris Hiltons of the world. Who knew? What I do know is that over the past couple of days I've had a serious case of what my friend calls the Januarys. Until now, I've nestled into my cozy little bubble of contentment (even with the Cold From Hell and my reflections about the past year), listening to people lament and groan over how dark, depressing and evil January is, while thinking smugly that this isn't so bad. Well. I don't know exactly when I switched over, but now I feel like crawling under my down comforter with the bottle of port and box of chocolates my friend gave me for Christmas until this stupid old month is over. And, geez louise, I'm turning 29 in a few weeks! I have to thank my littlest sister, Brynna, for cheering me up immensely on the phone tonight by insisting that really I am a BIG SNOB. She makes me laugh, even if it's true.

My mom is hilarious too. Last night, I was grumbling to her over the phone about how, at this rate, I'll never be able to afford even a condo in this city. My building is undergoing conversion into condos, and I'm bummed because I love this apartment and will most likely have to move. Again! But, with prices in this area and my tiny salary, buying a place would make me incredibly house poor. Her response took me by surprise.

She said not to worry about that yet. I'm not ready, as I still need to decide what I want to do and where I want to live. Anyway, if I stretch myself too thin, how will I afford purple shoes? Purple shoes are important to me, as well as having the freedom to take trips and pursue my other interests. She can't see me just sitting at home and being happy with that. Yes, it's a good investment, but it isn't worth it if I'll be miserable. She says to continue to enjoy my life, save as much as I can, and it will work out. I love her for getting me so much sometimes and knowing what to say to bring me out of my self-involved funk. It doesn't hurt that she is buying me the expensive purple shoes for my birthday either.

It suddenly occurred to me last night, while talking with my mom, that of the few holiday cards I sent out this season, I wrote a totally bizarro one to our family friend, Marta. I don't know what I was thinking when I put the stamp on and dropped that one into the mailbox. She's been going though a lot of difficult--although most likely positive in the long run--changes this year, and instead of just wishing her happy holidays and good things to come, I rambled on about how sometimes holidays are great but sometimes they suck (I'm near certain that is the word I used in a Christmas card). And, even if this one is bad, things should get better for her this year, because she deserves the best and blah, blah, blah. Sigh. My mom giggled when I told her, but I'm pretty sure we both think I've lost my marbles. Sorry, Marta!

New Year's Resolution: Will not send out holiday cards until after having trusted friend(s) review written messages to determine appropriateness.