When you FINALLY put away the Christmas decorations in your bedroom and bring out your regular decorations and rediscover that you’re a bit of a Francophile

Also: Covet my freshly polished, super-awesome bookshelf built from remnant wood by my homebuilder great-grandfather!

Also: My beanbag juggling cows have started yet another year (decade?) being shelf decorations instead of teaching me how to juggle.

This man named me Jake. Then I totally copied his middle name.

One of us needs some help in the coiffure department today

The other two aren't smart enough to spell coiffure. Or two. Or too and to for that matter.

I'm ancestrally from Norway

but I count myself as being from THIS country, where we desperately need to wipe out our Shithole Genius and flush him away so we can undo all the shithole things he's done.

They're probably technically SWEDISH meatballs ...

but we're Norwegian and my family's made the same recipe for Christmas decades upon decades before Frozen even came out, so we're culturally appropriating them and you can just go glade jul if you don't like it.

But next time I need to be more mindful to turn my Diet Coke can toward the camera because I don't get any product-placement residuals if nobody can see the label. #ResolutionToBeMoreResponsible

This is me in ten years

This was hidden away among three generations of surprises in my grandmother's attic when we emptied the house -- which was built by my great-grandfather -- after her death in 1984. We have no idea who these people are, but we assume they're ancestors so I hung this picture on the wall of my first house for seven years because NORWEGIAN GUILT. I have to say, I clearly get my smoldering handsomeness from the woman in the picture because aside from her dated middle part, the resemblance -- not to mention the eternally sunny disposition -- is uncanny. Assuming that even is a woman. And it goes without saying that I get my boxy, poorly drawn hands from the man.