Hey party people,

I’m like dust.  No matter how hard you work to be rid of me, I just keep floating back into your life.  So, take 5 seconds out of your day and keep reading, okay?

I just wanted to take this important opportunity, while you all are gathered eagerly around me, and say…

B    O    O    Y    A    H.

My Christmas cards are done.  And they are cool and lovely and slammin’ and all that plus a bag of chips.  See?

Front:

Inside Spread:

Inside Flap:

Back:

Ready to be mailed:

Mailed!

If you are steaming with jealousy, I totally understand.  Because even I’m a wee bit jealous of the Organized Christmas Candace.  She is not someone I have met before.  And I have a feeling she’ll be skipping town shortly.

Don’t fret, the Christmas Card runway is getting shorter but you’ve still got some road to work with.  Let Emily guide you in to a safe landing.  I’ll leave you with that weird analogy and hope that we don’t run into each other at JCPenny and you ask me about it.

Love and candy canes,

Candace

Hello there, Internets.  Emily and her generous heart, have invited me to to take up more bandwidth on her sparkly blog with a second installment of my jibber jabber.  Can you believe it??  So, here I am.  Dust off your Hazmat suits on and enjoy the ride.

Back, when I first forced our friendship, I confessed to you my current Life Fails.  Yes, you know what I mean.  Those delicious Christmas cards that are vital to keeping my epic fronting alive.  I made you a little promise and even though I am fairly unreliable, I followed through like I never could with my golf swing.

Emily roused us for a chilly, pre-work, morning photo shoot, which was a very fancy detour from my tired and uneventful life.  I was concerned briefly that I might not be able to put my friendly face on this early without colossal resistance (and coffee) but Hubs told me I looked hot in my own, runny nose type way, and so that was that.  I should let her work do the talking because, in all honesty, I talk too much for my own good anyway.

Aren’t they nice?  And I don’t even look like I am tore up from the floor up.  Hey, do people even say that anymore?

Anyway, Emily’s going to fashion these pics into something very lovely and I can’t wait to send them off to friends and family.  That way, I can keep my wretchedly stuffy and humdrum days a covert operation for one more year.  But before I bid you a good one, I’ll leave you with these powerful reminders of my awkwardness.  I’m sorry.  I hope we can still be friends.

Love and fist pumps,
Candace