A Few Things.

Happy New Year and all that jazz!

1. I'm still alive. 
    
2. I meant to get out an Operation: Christmas Cheer, Step 3 post before Christmas. Obviously, I failed at that, so let me sum up what it would have consisted of: bake delicious stuff (these turned out surprisingly well for Christmas morning) and watch Christmas movies/shows (Elf, A Muppet Christmas Carol, SNL Christmas Special: check)
    
3. Aside from Christmas-related crafting, I lost a lot of my creative drive in December, and am currently fighting against my annual January-induced, month-long malaise. But I have some ideas that might be worth changing out of my pajamas and leaving the house for. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, one of my best friends has finally moved back to the States after way too many years away, and in the process of getting ready to move her stuff out of storage, she unearthed this gem:

Hi, my name is Lisa, and I'm a DIY gifter.

It's not an addiction I'm particularly proud of, and I fully blame Pinterest and HGTV for feeding what was originally an innocent "Hey! I like to make things!" mindset.

I made this for Katie when I was living in Pennsylvania, working at a job I hated in a town I hated more. I had no friends, I lived alone, and I had way, waaaaaay too much free time. Katie's a marine biologist, so it's not a completely random choice of subject matter, but it wasn't until I'd finished it and proudly shared my accomplishment with Adrienne that it was pointed out to me how it bears a certain likeness to a certain part of the male anatomy. 

Yup. High on all that focused crafting excitement, I'd inadvertently made my best friend a three-foot-tall painting of a jellypenis.

This, of course, didn't stop me from giving it to her, because I have no shame. (That same year, I made Adrienne a giant wreath out of dictionary pages for her Christmas present, and had to then construct a house-shaped frankenstein box in order to ship it to her. I've been informed that it almost immediately fell to pieces upon arrival. Those were dark days.)

Nowadays, I try to rein in the urge to automatically (blindly) make someone their gift and, at the very least, pair a small-scale project (ornaments, for example) with something legit that they might actually want. I haven't managed to go cold turkey yet, but I have hope that one day I will be perfectly happy just purchasing nice things for my friends. Nice things that don't look like floating orange penises.

Unless, you know, that's what they asked for.

Operation: Christmas Cheer, Step Two

I used to hate Christmas music. I blame it on a life that involved driving everywhere I needed to go — enduring those Godawful 24-hour Christmas radio stations — and relying on our town's mall for most of my shopping needs. It wasn't until I was back home in Michigan for Thanksgiving that I realized my blessed current existence:

No car = no radio (and no frantic jamming of the Seek button to flee from "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer")

City living = no mall (and no parking nightmares, or piped-in Christmas slow jams, or hordes of children crying because they've been waiting for Santa for 45 minutes)

Bliss.

Now I realize that I don't hate Christmas music, I just hate not being able to choose what kind of Christmas music I get to listen to. So I made some Christmas playlists to share — now you can be forced to listen to the kind of Christmas music I like! Isn't the Internet grand?

Just kidding. Step Two of cultivating Christmas cheer is to listen to whatever kind of Christmas music makes you happy. If that means the local radio station's 24/7 offerings, or jazz-exclusive renderings, or indie acoustic covers, go for it. And ignore your eldest brother when he inevitably starts criticizing your taste in music. That's Grinch-like behavior and it will. not. stand, Matthew!

In the meantime, feel free to try these out as you're wrapping those presents you've been putting off for weeks. As you'll see, I consider the Home Alone soundtrack to be the utmost in classy offerings, but I'm always looking for more good songs. What favorites of yours am I missing?

DIY Ornaments

I may not have my own tree to decorate, but I still have some pretty strong opinions regarding Christmas ornaments. To me, decorating the tree isn't about following trends or trying out a new theme every year. I'll take a messy macaroni ornament over a glittering, mass-produced trinket any day. Don't get me wrong — I'm just as easily swayed by pretty, shiny things as the next person. But the perfect Christmas tree requires the perfect mix of nostalgia, cheese, pretty, and tradition. It's a proportion that I think our family tree manages to nail (when my brothers and I are around to keep my mom's ornament collection in check).

For every trio of bright gold ball, detailed wise man, and sparkling santa, you need gems like this:

(Yes, that's an angel made out of construction paper, a paper plate, and yarn. And yes, it has only one star-sticker eye. I love it.)

For every ceramic gingerbread house, wooden nutcracker, and embroidered angel, there's this:

I believe this is Mrs. Claus, after a brutal attack by the family dog several years ago. Mr. Claus might not have survived that one. (The one-eyed theme is not intentional, I promise.)

It's all about balance, people. Great Christmas trees are cultivated over many, many years, not purchased in one swift attack on the Macy's ornament section. Which is why I've started the tradition of making ornaments for my friends who have reached the stage in their life where they actually have their own Christmas tree. Namely, Adrienne. (Katie, you're next!)

Per my Christmas tree philosophy, I try to do an even mix of tasteful and hilariously random ornaments. Last year's batch included this sad whale:

This year, I continued the felt theme because, well, I love felt. We've already established that I tend to craft like a second grader.

This year's batch, however, is clearly fourth grade-caliber. Felt sushi rolls, an embroidered vinyl record (or alien boob — you decide), an embroidered starburst thingy, and a clay ornament with the Brooklyn bridge. More specifically, an illustration of the Brooklyn bridge that Dominik did for their wedding invitation.

Can we talk openly about the fact that wedding-related ornaments and ornaments meant to celebrate a couple's first year of marriage all suck? After extensive research, I've found that the majority of them to fall on either end of the following spectrum:

The goal here is to strike that perfect balance of sentiment and taste, or what I like to call the "Aw" factor. And let me tell you, it's hard. One wrong step and you're embroidering the Webster's dictionary definition of marriage or modpodging a rhyme that references both cowboy boots and Jesus. 

But I think what I ended up with here is an acceptable offering, and — even better — a really easy method for making customizable ornaments. Ready? Here's what you need:

Materials

• Oven-bake clay (I used Fimo)
• Waxed paper
• A printer

That's it.

First, roll out your clay and cut into your desired shape. Don't tell your roommates, but the cookie cutters in the kitchen are pretty handy for this. Next, use a skewer or other makeshift tool to carefully poke a hole near the top for hanging the finished ornament by.

Bake the clay the for the proper amount of time until hard — the instructions will be on the wrapper, so try not to throw that away when you get caught up in the nostalgia of crafting with clay again. 

(Once baked, I gave the surface a light sanding with fine grit sandpaper. This might be completely unnecessary, but we all know that I'll take any excuse to break out the sandpaper.)

Next, figure out what image you want and insert it into a basic word document, sized to fit the surface of the ornament. I went with Dominik's drawing because (1) I really like the look of the simple lines and (2) the restaurant where we celebrated their wedding day was at the base of the Brooklyn bridge. Can I get an "Aw"?

Take your waxed paper and cut to the size of standard printer paper (or smaller, and then just tape to a piece of paper). Feed it into the printer and then press the magic button. Take the paper with the printed image and carefully place, ink side down, onto the surface of the ornament. Use your thumbnail to emboss the back of the paper and transfer all of the ink onto the clay. Then, simply peel away the waxed paper.

MAGIC.

Use your fanciest string, ribbon, or thread to add a loop and you're good to go. I also wrote Adrienne & Dominik's names on the back, along with their wedding date, because I'm sappy like that.

Congratulations! You can now go back to making tacky ornaments that your mom will try to "forget" to put out each year. But you will always find them and prevail, because no tree is complete without something like this guy:

Operation: Christmas Cheer, Step One

Christmas — like birthdays, snow days and New Year's Eve — loses approximately 87% of its magic when you get old enough to start worrying more about bills than whether or not you'll get the Nerf bow and arrow set that you asked for. When you're an adult, it's a choice to get into the holiday spirit, not a given. And now, two weeks into December, after endless days of rain, missed buses, lost wallets, and long workdays, I. am. ready.

Step one for gaining some Christmas cheer: Decorate.

I know, I know. You have a million excuses not to. Christmas is less than two weeks away. Your apartment is tiny. You don't want to spend the money. Blah blah blah. The solution I came up with trumps all those complaints.

Rather than dealing with a full-sized (ha, not gonna happen) or even miniature tree, I snagged a bunch of greenery from a flower shop on my way home from work. I prefer the long needles for a simpler, more classy look, but you go with your gut. For $8, this bunch was hefty enough to perfectly fill an old, industrial-sized olive jar that I had on hand (confession: I've had this since my days of catering in college, hoarded from a food prep day. My only regret is that I didn't snag more). But let's be real, you can't just toss a bunch of branches in a jar and call it a day.

I nested a pint glass inside the jar and surrounded it with old wine corks. On the off-chance that you're not a part-time bartender and don't just have piles and piles (seriously) of these hanging around, feel free to get creative with what you have. Live in the suburbs or the sticks? Collect some pinecones, acorns, or even rocks. Depending on the size of your vessel, you could fill it with clementines — they can get pretty tiny. Even just some plain kraft paper gently crumpled could look lovely. Go crazy. There are no rules, except for maybe one: try not to spend any money.

I filled the pint glass with water to help with making my greenery last and did my best to arrange the bunch into an evenly distributed bouquet. Since my choice of greenery doesn't have very strong branches (it's mostly needles), I opted against putting lights on the tree and went with a garland of gold stars that I had instead (see, Adrienne? I hang on to your gifts, too). The lights that we had from last year's tiny tree were perfect for winding around the base of the arrangement. (If there's one thing I would be okay spending money on, it's lights. They're the secret weapon for easy Christmas decorating and an instant fix of warm and fuzzy feelings.)

Nathan bought some battery operated candles to put in the windows last year, and while I was rummaging around for those, I came across the makeshift marquee I had whipped up then, too. Up it went, along with some candy canes we've had since last December. (Seriously, does anyone actually eat those?)

Note: In my opinion, the easiest way to fill space on a blank or otherwise just awkward wall is with a clothesline arrangement. Whether it's with twine and actual clothespins or fishing line and binder clips, I've used this method in every place I've lived since college. It's great for displaying all your favorite photographs or other two-dimensional keepsakes, it's easy to switch up, and it takes about five minutes to set up. Plus, it's especially useful for holidays and special occasions.

Makeshift tree? Check. Christmas lights? Check. Banner & candy canes? Check. All that was left were the snowflakes.

You learn a lot of important things in the second grade that stay with you for the rest of your life: Don't pick your nose. Stop, drop, and roll. And, most importantly, how to make some pretty sweet snowflakes with just printer paper and safety scissors.

Whether your snowflakes look like authentic cumulus offspring or bizarre, tribal-like symbols, you can take pride in knowing that, either way, they look really cool from the street.

I'll admit that the snowflakes took a little time, but then again, I'm always looking for an excuse to rewatch old episodes of obscure TV series. The rest of it, though? The tree? Took about as long as it did for me to make and enjoy a glass of hot spiced cider and bourbon. (Step 1b to cultivating Christmas cheer: booze.)

You can do it.