Thursday, December 24, 2009

Christmas Kerfuffle

I feel the need to share my family antics because they make me giggle. And giggling is the best thing in the world.

So yesterday I was re-informed that my job is an asshole. They went ahead and canceled my vacation time because apparently I don't need it. So I was all set to be a little Christmas orphan and sit in my apartment with my wine and only Mr. Bing Crosby and my cats for company. But 'tis the season after all and my family has decided to bring Christmas to me!

Now I feel a little guilty because obviously they had the great Christmas dinner planned, complete with turkey and ham and a whole lot of mashed potatoes, but I'm not gonna lie; I quite pleased that my brothers are being forced into the cramped back seats of a car, loaded down with gifts, the dog and my parents' holiday cheer to drive four excruciatingly long hours --without halt-- just to bring ME Christmas-time love. Yes... we can all see who's the favoured child in this scenario.

So, while I was contemplating their agony, I called my mom, just to make sure plans were still good. It occurred to me that while the phone was ringing, that all I have in my fridge is a carton of milk, a soggy half of cucumber (Brianna's), some egg-nog (also Brianna's) and a few apples. So I get my mother on the phone, and after twenty minutes of her testing out all the features on her nifty new cordless phone, hanging up on my twice and getting stuck on speaker-phone I finally get to my point.

"You're didn't buy a turkey did you?" I ask, stupidly since I already know the answer.

"Yes. I did. But it's okay. I'm not going to bring it." Phew, dodged a bullet there.

"Well, what did you want to do for supper tonight? Because I'm young and broke and live off pasta and tea, which is all that I currently have in my cupboard."

"Oh well we can make pizza. Do you have flour?"


"Hm, well... how about--"

"Mom, let me stop you there. I'll give you the inventory of my kitchen." Which I do, and which gives me a long silent response from my mom. Why are parents always so shocked when they find out you don't have enough food to make a rounded meal? Don't they remember being young? When all they needed to survive was a bottle of liquor and a Twinkie?

"Well, I bought a ham. So I'll bring that. You do have pots I can cook in right?"

"Yes mother. You bought them for me."

"Okay. Good."

"But if you try to cook a ham in them, in the oven, the plastic handles are going to melt."

"You don't have anything else?"

"I have a frying pan that I cooked a roast in once!"

"..... Forget it. We'll just order Chinese food."

"Okay! Oh yeah, I don't have a Christmas tree."

"What? How do you not have a tree? Where are we going to put our presents?"

"Well because I didn't really NEED one, and don't worry about it. I'll just tape one to the wall out of construction paper."

"... ... .... *sigh*"

What surprises me the most is that she's always shocked with my ridiculous ideas when SHE'S the one who raised me. Crazy.

Merry Holidays!

Friday, December 11, 2009

Sometimes I understand why men love cars.... Only sometimes

So this is the car. THE car that helps me get a glimpse into the male psyche.

The 1968 Ford Mustang Coupe Convertible.


It physically makes me drool. The rest of the world becomes silent, cares disappear and saliva pools in my mouth because this car makes me unable to manage involuntary actions.

This car makes me want to tell the rest of the world to shut up and let me appreciate it's awesomeness in reverent silence.

It makes me understand why men love cars. It really does. This car is... an image of God. It's beautiful. It's... a 1968 Ford Mustang Coupe Convertible!

If I was presented a choice and had to make a decision between this car or the perfect man, without a minute of consideration I would choose this car. I could get everything I need from this car. EVERYTHING! Do you understand me people of the interwebz? Everything.

This car... everything... drool....

The End.