The Only Christmas Album You Need This Year

Too bad the only Christmas album you need this year doesn’t exist.

But first..

For whatever reason, the holiday season is when my mortality anxiety hit’s her peak.

I have no idea why, but I spend a lot of time this time of year baking cookies, googling WebMD and hoping my last meal isn’t fast food.

This year, my mortality anxiety has advanced to guru status. My mortality anxiety could give a TED talk on how to inflict the most pain. Also, the apocalypse helps.

In my defense, I have had a few oddish symptoms. Nothing horrible, but you know, it’s Christmas.

I googled my symptoms, and two of them brought up ovarian cancer in the number three spot. Ovarian Cancer is one of my biggest fears. Way before sharks and flying in a plane and I’m super scared of both those things. Ovarian cancer is my ghost of Christmas Future. If Charles Dickens had also been an OB/GYN.

This is like a Christmas miracle. For my anxiety.

I don’t hate my ovaries. I don’t. It’s no small thanks to my ovaries that two amazing humans exist on this earth. I am, however, terrified of my ovaries. Every year when I go to for my yearly exam, I have this little fantasy in the waiting room where I go in for my exam and my doctor says she’s going to schedule surgery and remove my ovaries. And then I bake her a cake.

I’ve been struggling to do much more than work and watch TV. I force myself to do housework. I force myself to write. I haven’t even baked anything yet. Lately, I’ve been forcing myself to eat and that is just not like me. Because fretting endlessly about mortality is just exhausting.

Also, I got a great big sty this week. My eye hurts. I look like a freak and it’s giving me a headache. Plus my eye won’t stop tearing up, which makes my nose run, which makes my ears hurt. Then, I can’t stop smelling things because I think I probably have COVID.

So, I’ve been doing my best to distract myself from my own brain, which isn’t fucking easy. I bought conditioner with hair color in it. I chose platinum thinking the conditioner would turn my gray white. I’ll either look striking or look like the crypt keeper. We all need hobbies, right? Anyway, that arrived today and I decided to give it a try and take a long, hot bath with my overpriced CBD infused bath salts. Maybe, just maybe, I could calm down a bit and stop worrying about the epic battle my ovaries are waging against me.
And for a little bit, it worked.

After soaking in the tub, I decided 2020 needs it’s own Christmas album.

I mean, I’m not writing lyrics or music or anything. I’m just coming up with titles. Someone else will have to do that other stuff. We have 48 hours. Surely someone could step up.

So, here we go, all the songs on the only Christmas album you need this year called Christmas 2020: For all that is holy, will this year ever end?

  • I Shaved My Legs For Christmas
  • Kris Kringle Blues: All My Friends Are On The Naughty List
  • Silent Christmas (Mom Is Hungover Again)
  • My Cats Ate The Christmas Tree
  • Grandma Got Run Over By A Maskhole
  • The Neighbors Judge My Yard (Heartfelt Ballad)
  • Don’t Bring Me COVID, Santa
  • Wear A Mask Or Else You’ll Get Coal In Your Stockings
  • WebMD Is The Devil
  • All I want For Christmas Is A Good Vaccine
  • Do You Have A Dead Person’s Ashes On Your Tree?
  • Chinese Food Is Festive
  • Do You Smell What I Smell?
  • The Bathroom Is Never Dirty At Christmas
  • Rudolph The Slimy Lawyer
  • The 12 Days Of Christmas Feel Like A Year
  • Where Is The Goddamn Tape?

So, how about it? Someone write those lyrics and music and produce it, market it and sell it. That would be great. I’ll send you my PayPal information. Halfsies sounds about right?

I’m not serious about the ovarian cancer thing. Mostly. I don’t mean to be flip. Or insensitive. I’m not making light of a terrible disease that has affected so many women and their families. I mean, for all I know, it could be pancreatic cancer.

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  • That is one hell of a great album in the making! Grab an extra bottle or two of bourbon, it usually works for me. Tell your ovaries to shut up. We’re just starting to see the light at the end of the longest tunnel and they don’t need to screw this up. Have a very Merry Christmas with your family. And “CHEERS” to the New Year!

  • my high school life skills teacher was infamously known for grabbing two basketballs (from the top with the ball hanging like a lamp) and yelling ‘”what am I?”

    may your basketballs be well

  • Chinese food is festive, I agree, we’re having Aromatic Crispy Duck for Christmas dinner and I don’t care 🙂
    Wishing you and Randy, and the lovely puddy cats, a healthy Happy Christmas, and let’s hope next year is less sucky! xxx

  • You hit a certain age and then every organ in your body becomes a potential complication, if only in our minds. If there are ever any symptoms of anything (WebMD is a scary site), than yes! Go see a Doctor! The over-reacting is the least of your worries.

    Hope all stay safe and happy – the kitties stay out of your tree/presents/bathtub – and hey! A little mistletoe over Dude’s head would be a nice touch.

    And seriously Randy. I’ve been asking for a “Like” button all year. C’mon – give Santa a little help!

  • OK, I’m using my old screen name so I can post a link. Did you know this was a thing, or was it a happy coincidence?
    Also, Rocky Mountain Mike has “Rudy, the Wild Eyed Lawyer”…
    Briana had to drive to Humboldt County to deal with some issues on some property her mom owns there and can’t deal with any more, and on the way back she stopped at Brenda’s house, and Brenda sent the little naugahyde briefcase that holds my archived recordings (that Brenda managed to save from the disaster that was our last move) with her for my sixtieth birthday.
    So I bought this little cassette player/file converter off of Amazon for thirty bucks and now I have three files on this here laptop labeled “Peter Gabriel Greek Show 1983 (1 of 3, 2 of 3, and 3 of 3) and for me, those are the Christmas album. Man that was a good show.
    I’ve also been listening to my own recorded output, which is always cringe inducing, but you know what? I used to be a pretty good guitar player. I still have a couple more tapes to review to see if there’s anything I think is worth digitizing and maybe trying to do something with, but mostly it was just a nice reminder that I was really serious about that shit for twenty fucking years.
    I know what you mean about health anxieties, I mean, if I’d have known that I was gonna live this long I would have taken better care of myself.
    No, that’s a damn lie, but it’s still kinda funny.
    WebMD is famous for making hypochondriacs out of people, but on the other hand, Briana did web searches about the health issues she was dealing with and found out that she had a “profoundly underperforming” thyroid, and is currently taking medication for it that has improved her quality of life measurably.
    So the goddamn tape is in the goddamn naugahyde briefcase and Brenda is the kind of friend that enables goddamn irresponsible louts like myself to have access to the goddamn things.
    May you, Randy, and the cats have a wonderful holiday season, and may your anxieties just fuck right off and quit bothering you.

    • I LOVE Randy Rainbow and I had not seen that video, so thank you!

      And your cassette story…I love this. How cool to relive those moments, even the cringy ones.

      So, I have a story about that. I may have told it before, so forgive me if I’m repeating myself. Anyway, I LOVED Cheap Trick’s cover of Don’t Be Cruel. I suppose one evening I recorded myself singing that song and then forgot about it. And I can’t sing. Not at all. Then I got divorced and my ex and I split our shit up. That cassette tape was the last tape used in that recorder and that tape recorder ended up with my ex. My son Zach was 4 years old and we had just moved into a new apartment, when his dad and stepmom showed up. His stepmom handed me this cassette and said “Yeah, this is yours I guess. Your singing an Elvis song?” I thanked her, went inside my apartment, found a hammer and smashed the tape to bits.

      I mean, I can laugh about it now

      And Happy Holidays to you and yours. I hope Brianna has recovered from her cat scratch.

  • I asked my doctor, “What am I Googling when I get home?”
    And she laughed… while she scheduled my ultrasound and MRI…
    My liver lesions and your doubtful ovaries should get together and sing their own carols…
    Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and Hurry the Fuck up, 2021 <3

By Michelle


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