I get the extreme honor (and the easy part) in RESPONDING to Liz’s introduction to me and I also get a chance to defend my ornament stealing behavior. As if, that kind of zeal and exuberance needs to be defended (and REALLY Liz, you went and bought an ornament to replace the one you stole from someone in a game, REALLY?)…

It would seem from my actions that I am an EXTREMELY competitive person (not to mention that I am looking bad since I didn’t replace anyone’s stolen ornament, again, REALLY Liz?). And the funny part is that I am NOT competitive at all… but there is something about decorations covered in glitter that does it to me. Or maybe it is Fran’s house? Fran also used to host a party where you submitted 5 recipes, Fran compiled a yearly cookbook, you brought one cooked item and we all voted on whose entry was the best, we ate a lot, got a cookbook and went home happy… well, you went home happy, if you were ME because I totally rocked that contest as well. They still talk about my profiteroles and Toot’s hot bacon swiss dip in hushed reverent terms, oh yes they do people. Put me in ANY sports arena and I have NO desire (or ability to win), but a recipe contest and holiday products and well, I am pretty darn lethal. I WILL OWN THE STAR ORNAMENT WITH THE GLITTER, OH YES I WILL, WITH ALL THAT IS HOLY AND SACRED, I MEAN THAT AND DARN IT JUST TASTE THOSE PROFITEROLES.

I am passionate about the things that I care about (and any ornament with a star on it falls into that category). What Liz didn’t cover is that I always strive to bring the BEST ornament to the party as well. I search for weeks for the perfect ornament; I wrap it to entice the choosers. I sometimes stretch the rules (never break, just stretch) by bringing a SET of ornaments. My personal piece de resistance (Republicans can use French too) was the year I brought the really plump, gaudy octopus (because NOTHING says sacred religious holiday like a fat tacky sea creature) that was named “Miss Frannie” in honor of our hostess. I am sure Fran was thrilled that a large octopus was her homage. The point is that I want the ornament I bring to be stolen three times and fought over. I want to be the popular girl at the party (high school anyone?).

I think this behavior has a lot to do with the fact that I want to be RIGHT. I am a Republican after all. I like that I am in the party on the RIGHT. But that is also why the Village Square is so appealing to me. My desire to be RIGHT is less than the desire that to know what is going on and to be a participant in this little process we call LIFE. I don’t want any one to choose my ornaments for me, much less to scream over me about why that ornament MUST be the one i choose whilst showing grainy black and white photos of the OTHER ornament looking really bad to prove that the ornament of THEIR choice is the best one for me. I want to fight for the one that I know is PERFECT for my tree, the one that fits that one little blank space to the right of the drummer boy on the tree. That really has almost nothing to do with politics does it? But I wanted to sound philosophical about my ornament behavior. And I almost had a good point (that may be a theme to my writing… It was ALMOST a good point).

Here is the sad part. I have scoured my 12,000+ digital pictures on my computer and I have NO pictures of the ornaments that I have fought so valiantly for and WON. I do however have this photo of an “ornament” that has hung on my tree for three years. It is the information tag from a new pair of pajamas that one of my children got on Christmas Eve and it got hung on the tree because that was funny. And every year we pack it up with the ornaments, because it is funny. And the next year we put it back on the tree, because (well, certainly you have the idea of this thing now). And I took a picture of it last year, which proves that the ornament I fought to WIN is less important to me than being funny. Which is a good thing for all who read this blog (all three of you and two of you are related to me or roomed with me in college).

Now I will be bringing the profiteroles to go with the spiked punch…

- Lea