Today's a tough day for a friend because it's the anniversary of her wedding to her ex-husband. In addition, she's been in a period of transition recently, packing up her belongings to move back to California after spending some time here in Florida. It's understandable that today will bring up sad memories for Hilly, but I think we can do something to change that.
Let's declare today, February 7th, "Hilly Love Day", and everybody take a second out of your busy Sunday schedule to do one or more of the following:
What should you say? How about "Happy Hilly Love Day!" or "Hilly is awesome" or "I PPH Hilly" or "Hilly makes me feel funny in my pants". Any of these ideas, or anything you can think of on your own, is acceptable.
Let's spread the love and give Hilly something positive to think of on next February 7th!
(Oh, and while you're leaving positive, happy messages, today is the birthday of Jessica, aka Black Belt Mama! Happy birthday, Jessica!)
It's almost Christmas, and Santa has been checking his list, trying to see who's getting coal and who's not. It's also time to steal a page from Snackie's book, and open up the comments for HOLIDAY CONFESSIONS!
Did you ever steal someone's present? Have you regifted? Have you ever masturbated into the punch at the company party?
You can confess whatever holiday-related (or not) sin you want, no matter how small or how momentous. Confess something that you'd never post on your own blog – you don't have to worry about your readers seeing it here. Confess something that you've just wanted to get off of your chest. Confess something that you don't really care about. If you want to leave your comment anonymously, make sure to change your email address, too, so that Gravatar doesn't pick up your avatar.
I'll start:
Confession #1: I have, on occasion, given presents to people that increased in value depending on how much I liked them.
Confession #2: One year, I, along with a few friends, roamed our neighborhood and the neighborhood next to ours and pulled out a few random bulbs on people's lights, causing all their lights to go out, stole candy canes or lighted bulbs that lined their walkways, and broke the floating lit up Christmas trees in the lake. I feel bad every time I think about it.
Confession #3: I figured out that there was no Santa when I was four, and I always delighted in the fact that my brother and sister took much, much longer to figure it out.
Confession #4: I would consider converting to Judaism just for the potato latkes.
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