Merry Christmas, to those of you who celebrate Christmas! And happy 25th of December to everyone else!
For quite a few years now, I have included a satirical “faux holiday letter” in my holiday cards — and as this year I have the honor of writing the Risky Regencies Christmas post, I thought that instead of sharing a lovely informative bit on Christmas in the Regency, or anything useful like that, I would post my silly letter instead. So here it is! Proof of just how weird I am…
CARA’S ANNUAL HOLIDAY LETTER IN WHICH SHE EXTOLS THE SUPERIORITY OF HER STUFFED CAT AND TELLS YOU ALL ABOUT PEOPLE YOU’VE NEVER MET BUT WHO ARE OBVIOUSLY WAY COOLER AND WAY SPIFFIER THAN ANYONE ON EARTH EXCEPT MAYBE CARA’S STUFFED CAT
Hello, O Fortunate Recipient of this yearly literary gem! Here is an abstract of all the clever things I did this year; the actual paper has been submitted to Phys Rev Letters and will be peer-reviewed as soon as they locate someone who will admit to being my peer.
JANUARY: I attend the annual Jane Austen Ball. The pleated hem of my Regency gown is so brilliant that it finds a solution to global warming. Unfortunately, someone steps on my hem while dancing Mr Beveridge’s Maggot, and the solution hits a snag.
FEBRUARY: I appear as Paulina in Caltech’s production of THE WINTER’S TALE. My wig is massive enough to nearly start a nuclear implosion. Todd’s wig, however, actually does implode, creating a quantum black hole. This quantum black hole travels back through time, turning things that should be benign into hugely destructive forces (e.g. squirrels, computer solitaire, and SUV drivers who tailgate while talking on cell phones and eating pastrami.)
MARCH: As the hottest new trend involves combining two different
popular genres (e.g. the recent television hits “CSI: Shakespeare” and
“Superman vs. the Sopranos”), I write several installments of “Austen Trek: or, if Jane Austen Wrote Star Trek” for my blog. My blogmates all pretend to enjoy these (their ecstatic compliments range from “that’s really just…bizarre” to “who’s Yeoman Rand?”), but Jane Austen threatens to sue.
APRIL: I pretend to work on my new young adult novel.
MAY: Having lived in our condo for almost five years, Todd and I decide to finally put our posters up. Exhausted by our bout of decision-making, we put off the actual putting-up for another five years.
JUNE: Todd and I visit Nice, but not before 2,306,973 people tell me that they hear it’s very nice there.
JULY: The new Harry Potter book is released, making Britain the world’s second-greatest economic power, right behind Walmart.
AUGUST: Todd becomes Associate Chair of his department. This takes up huge amounts of his time which might otherwise be used for important things like watching DVDs from Netflix and writing witty comments on my blog.
SEPTEMBER: We receive our millionth charity solicitation and billionth offer to refinance; we have now papier-mâchéd an additional room onto our condo, which would look perfect except that it really needs some posters on the walls.
OCTOBER: I attend what may be the last ever Genesis concert at the 18,000-seat Hollywood Bowl, which is followed by an exodus of incredible numbers of people trying to trample the Kings (and Rubins and a Brun), which leads to a few lamentations on our part. Crowd control at the Bowl must be an incredible job, but whoever judges that it’s okay for us to get mobbed like that is pretty ruthless, if you ask me.
NOVEMBER: Todd and I see Ian McKellen play King Lear. My favorite part is when Lear disinherits his annoying youngest child, Pippin, in favor of Frodo and Merry, but Todd’s favorite part is when Edgar pretends to be a mad creature named Gollum who wears nothing but a loincloth and a lot of dirt.
DECEMBER: Someone informs me that just because WGA writers are on strike doesn’t mean that there’s any reason for me to not write. My explanation of how my brain refuses to cross the picket line having failed, I am now procrastinating by doing important things like writing my holiday letter and talking to my stuffed cat.
There you have it! Until next year, I remain…Cara King.
And it’s absolutely true. I do remain Cara King. (Though come to think of it, I’m not really sure why; it probably has something to do with metaphysics…or maybe kilophysics…)
And don’t forget! Next Tuesday, we’re discussing the 1986 version of NORTHANGER ABBEY!!! So it’ll be a Northanger New Year’s Day!