2002-12-20 at 11:02 a.m.

My parents have been getting a lot of Christmas cards lately.

(I haven't been getting any Christmas cards. Foo.)

Most of these cards come from very old friends of the family who we haven't seen in years, but who send us a Christmas card every December. This is because it is the one obligational nicety required to still be considered our 'friends'.

Some of the cards come with very long and tedious letters which recount everything the family has been doing that year. These letters contain such salient facts as-

"I am still working at L.J. Hooker city office but there was new ownership in October & a lot of changes, some not for the best. I am only working about 8-12 hrs."

"Nicole is busy playing ten-pin bowling now & in a young peoples Lions Club."

"We had another good season of netball this year winning our Grand Final by only one."

Now, I hate to sound callous about this, but... who the hell cares?!

There are two problems with these sorts of letters. The first is that they either turn out horribly smug and self-congratulatory, or very 'poor me, this year has been crap'. The second is that they're mind-numbingly boring.

I intend to rectify that.

So, for your enjoyment, here's my end-of-year Christmas letter. It comes in two forms- 'self depricating' and 'smugly superior'.

Dear (insert name),

Well, what a shithouse year it's been. I mean, my life is pretty torturous at the best of times, but this year I've been feeling just like the 'propeller guy' at the end of 'Titanic'.

The year began when I came down with leprosy. I lost four fingers (thus ending my career as a musician), two toes (thus ending my career as a ballet dancer), and my left breast (thus ending my career as an amatuer snuff film porn star).

My house caught fire and burned to the ground a total of three times this year, none of which I was insured for. The tragic loss of my Princess Diana Royal Doulton Collector Plates was more than I could bear, and I was committed to 'New Bedlam House for the Mentally Interesting' after trying to off myself using a bathtub full of jello and a rotary hoe.

My father was captured by a band of marauding Zulu Natives while shopping for paint-stripper at Big W. They've promised to return him when we present them with 'ten beautiful young virgin sacrifices to appease our Gods'. We're not having much luck finding volunteers.

Mum went missing in the back yard several months ago. She went to do some routine pruning in the 'Deadly Flesh Eating Plant' area, and never came back- although I have been finding tattered strips of her clothing blowing around the yard for a while.

Clare won lotto at the start of this year, but blew it all in three months at the racetrack. She now has a drinking problem and is visited very frequently by Italian debt collectors dressed in dark suits, sunglasses and very thin watches.

Must go now- it's time for my daily injection of valium. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Michelle

c/o 'New Bedlam House'

Dear (insert name),

Greetings, lowly mortals! Ha, ha, I'm just kidding. Soon, we'll all be immortal, thanks to the breakthrough developments I've made this year in the field of biochemistry. It has been a wonderfully productive year for myself and my family. As well as my biochemical research, I've written my third best-selling novel 'The Monkeys Have Stolen My Appendix'- a harrowing tale about self discovery and loss of innocence; performed as a soloist with the London, New York, and Sydney Symphony Orchestras; and had a guest spot on 'The Simpsons'.

After thwarting terrorist attempts to blow up Sydney Harbour Bridge, dad has been given the Medal of Honour and a very attractive display plaque. He's since been touring the country, giving a series of lectures on how much of a hero he is.

Mum recently developed a new breed of cactus that will wipe out all hunger in third-world countries. It will grow under any conditions, reproduce rapidly, is full of essential vitamins and minerals, and tastes like chicken.

Clare has been skipped from year 11 up to third-year university, where she is studying something very, very impressive. She hopes to make an absolute shitload of money upon completion of her degree next year. In her spare time, she enjoys rescuing kittens from trees, free of charge.

We hope to see you all at Griffin Manor for our annual Christmas Eve party. (Thanks to my newly developed advanced cloning techniques, The Beatles will be performing directly after the three-course lobster dinner).

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Dr. Michelle

Piney says-

"Have an adequately jovial Christmas and an acceptable New Year"

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