In a few hours Dr. J and I will leave for our special, much-needed, Christmas getaway. We are looking forward to spending the night in luxurious accomodations, playing in the snow, and forgetting life's troubles . . . for a while. I know he is going to be so excited when he opens his Christmas gift, too!
However, I can't let the Christmas season pass without offering a few random observations about what I've seen, heard, and experienced lately:
* Why do people wait until the last-minute to shop? I have never understood this. Do a little along the way, and you will avoid the stress of the final shopping weekend before Chirstmas, folks!
* The Sportman's Outlet is a totally cool place to kill time! We went there yesterday in search of ski pants (mine seem to have disappeared, which is not surprising considering the enormous number of times I have moved in my life), and had a blast checking out all of the cool hunting and fishing stuff they have to offer -- WOW! Who knew?!
* Glitter cards should be outlawed. Let me offer a short, holiday anecdote, which happens to be entirely true . . . . Last week I came home to a stack of newly arrived Christmas cards. Being pressed for time, but wanting to open them, I took a letter opener and the stack of envelopes into the bathroom with me, and proceeded to open them while sitting on The Throne (oh, save your horror, my faithful readers -- you have all done this, I just am willing to admit it). Anyhoo, I have never been a fan of cards with glitter on them, as some miniscule piece of glitter invariably winds up on my face and I can never seem to get rid of it -- it just follows me everywhere. So when I open one card in particular, and find that the entire front of the card is covered in glitter, I am already nervous. As is usually the case with glittery cards, the glitter becomes slightly dislodged during transit, and thus as I open the card a cascade of glitter falls off of the card, and straight into my lap. My bare, naked, exposed lap. Sigh. This is not gonna be good -- because the night before I had done some, uh, major grooming. And when I stood up, well, I now have a sparkly va-jay-jay. Nice. And I am cursing like a sailor as I try to carefully wipe away all of the glitter, so it doesn't get wiped up inside me, 'cause I can just imagine having to explain THIS to my gynecologist, should an infection result! So GREAT -- jut because someone out there LOVES glitter cards, I got the Christmas treat of a porn star va-jay-jay, thanks to the glitterati!!! Yeah, Merry FRICKIN' Christmas.
This stuff ONLY happens to me, I swear. It's good to know that I can make people laugh, though, with my openness about the bizarre and strange shit that happens in my life.
*** [NOTE: Hamster, I am NOT referring to your Christmas card, which did have a small amount of glitter -- trust me, the card that caused the trouble was NOT yours, babe!] ***
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