December makes me think of members.

What? Gross. Did I just make an anatomical reference that makes no sense? Yes. I'm sorry. I really would prefer to rant about how boring "Australia" was with the exception of the magical aboriginal boy wonder. I could fill pages about my obsession and fear for a close friend during the Mumbai terrorist attacks. I am so disappointed in the Grey's anatomy slip n slide into the horror show of prime-time soap-opera-esque plot lines with dead ghosts making love to Izzy. In the famous words of every character on that show from last year: "Seriously? Seriously. SER-I-OUSLY?"

But I here I am...over-sexed. I know, I know....no surprise, but somehow I am convinced that hormonally, things are going crazy pre-winter solstice. During the normal excitement and anticipation of Thanksgiving dinner I was dreaming of having sex with Hugh Laurie...really. It was exciting and moment to moment heart-palpitating, pulsating anticipation and then after kissing the top of his tummy and unzipping his pants....there was an infant size "member". He then waddled off with his cane. Hmmm...

Next up, was trapeze foreplay with someone even stranger, like Ewen Mcgregor, or some other bendy man from modern day movies. I will tell you, instead of being exotic, it was overwhelmingly full of huge misses, and big pelvic bruises. Its bizarre. Truly. I wake up sweaty and guilt-ridden. This is the season of giving and gratefulness. This is the time for love and light and peaceful offerings and my subconscious is nose-diving past saviors born in hay, to rolling in it and then failing miserably at execution. I DON'T FAIL AT EXECUTION (of that). I can't control it. The more I joke with friends or my husband about how I will focus on wholesome things before nodding off...the worse it gets. I wont even begin to describe what happened with the red-head actress from "Gladiator" or "The Devils Advocate". Eesh.

I will try harder (tee-hee) to focus on Christmas cheer and holly. I will spend more time making hot apple cider and warm cocoa while wearing an apron and maybe even doing my hair like a Mormon bouffant FLDS matriarch in folded white socks and denim. I am not unholy or despicable.

AM I? Strap in...December is going to be warm and fuzzy, white hot and tingly too.

PS: Good gracious I hope none of my child's preschool teachers ever stumble onto this blog!