Here's a Note that I posted on my Facebook in January

To Paraphrase Diana Ross:

Baby, baby, where did my brain go?
Ooooh, don't you want me, don't you want me no more, baby baby, and etc.

So tonight is the perfect night for me to sit my large a** down and write Christmas and birthday thank you notes. We are watching the football game, which is not necessarily the most compelling thing on television in my opinion, even though I am rooting for those Indiana guys (horseshoes on helmets), in honor of my friends Rod and Dreamer White.

Now, if you gave me a Christmas and/or birthday gift and you do not receive a thank you note from me over the next week or so, please understand that I have probably already forgotten what you gave me -- or that you even gave me something. I tried to keep a list, but that fell apart, even before Christmas.

Nevertheless, I am grateful to you: it was just what I wanted; it was delicious; I haven't read it, nor do I already have one; I know I'll use it often; it fits, smells great, or goes great in my (insert room here); and I thank you so much for thinking of me.

A Christmas thank-you note we received from the always-prompt, southern gentleman Richard shows a cartoon version of the Virgin Mary sitting at a rude writing desk, donkey looking over her shoulder, and she's calling toward an unseen part of the stable, "Honey, who gave us the myrrh?"

I'm just clueless.