I was GOING to say that today is my OTHER uncle's birthday--Uncle Bill, the NEXT guy Aunt Kathy married--but upon looking at my calendar, a thing I never do, I see his birthday is the day BEFORE Uncle Leo's, and hey, sorry I missed your b-day, Uncle Bill.
Clearly Aunt Kathy has a type. She likes her the Sagittarians.
Also, my Uncle Bill is NOT a playboy millionaire with a nice NY apartment and a British pimp butler, which saddens me as much as it does you. It also saddens me that I am not hot like Sissy. So there you go.
But speaking of my hotness,
Aw, HELL, yeah.
It's ugly holiday sweater day at work, and I know we need to be inclusive and everything, but are there actually ugly Hanukkah sweaters? Because if there are I'm totally wearing one next year. THIS one--and won't you enjoy my checkerboard pattern?--set me back two dollars at the thrift shop. It's 75% off all Christmas clothes right now. I almost got the mock turtleneck with gingerbread men on it, but the one above seemed more classic. It's the Chanel of Christmas sweaters.
And let me give you a little tip. If anyone is out there actually still wearing, you know, Christmas sweaters, you should know they are the basis for what have become very common parties. Do you really want to be that person, wearing in all seriousness what others are wearing for a joke?
Fashion Tips. By June "I wear yoga pants to Target" Gardens.
Oooo! And not only does mine have shoulder pads, it also ZIPS UP! I know!
When I was at the thrift shop, this older woman said to the clerk, "They have a MAN working at the Junior League thrift store now? Hunh! I didn't think men were allowed!" Thinking the woman was a normal member of society kibitzing with him, he said, "Oh, yes, ma'am. I'm even the manager!"
"I'm not surprised," she groused, bitterly tossing her items on the counter. "Of COURSE they put a man in charge of a woman's organization. We live in an EXTREMELY MISOGYNISTIC SOCIETY, and NOTHING HAS CHANGED in FIFTY YEARS!!" Oh, she was on a roll all of a sudden.
"I, um, don't know how to respond to that," said the poor manager.
"THERE IS NO RESPONSE! IT'S A HATEFUL HATEFUL SOCIETY."
Good gravy.
Once she was gone, another customer was all,"What was THAT?" and we all just exploded. Turns out everyone there had been listening in an appalled-yet-fascinated kind of way. "Ring my sweater up, you woman-hater," I said to the manager. I mean, look. Yes, I think we DO live in a misogynistic society, but might that woman's experience with how awful our society is have something to do with, oh, her attitude?
And speaking of happy Christmas things, last night Ned and I went to the old theater we like, and we saw It's a Wonderful Life Other than the Misogyny. And guess what.
Girlfriend was packed. I called Ned at 7:28. "I can't find parking! The lot is completely full! Oh! Wait! Let me--" I swerved around one of those annoying cars that sits there waiting for someone to leave a spot and found another. "There! I'll be right there. Are you outside the theater?"
"No, I'm still at my apartment."
Who adores himself? He had been waiting for me for 15 minutes outside the theater, and had bought tickets already, and the place was TEAMING with folks, and there was free hot cider, and a choir was singing, and I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd schlepped in a donkey wearing swaddling clothes and offered free immaculate conceptions next.
Naturally, Ned had to get in the concession line.
"But..." I started.
"We aren't gonna miss any of the movie," he said. "Look how many people are still out here, and the choir is still singing. Anyway, WHOSE FAULT is it we're late?"
"See," I said, "Ima punch you in the HEAD you say another word. You're ALWAYS LATE for EVERYTHING. And anyway, you know I've never seen this movie, and if I don't see every second I won't know what's going on."
"You've got to be KIDDING," said the guy in line behind me.
You know.
You TRY to snark at your boyfriend in a crowded theater, you expect at least a MODICUM of privacy. GEEZ.
"No," I said to him. He was probably a misogynist. "In fact, I know this movie by heart." "Oh thank GOD," said Eaves and his Drop, back there. But you know what? Our concession stand waitperson? Told me she HATES It's a Wonderful Life. What kind of YAHOO hates It's a Wonderful Life? And I don't want to hear it, DAD.
My dad has also never seen Wizard of Oz. I mean, I can't even.
I had spent a large part of my day just emailing Ned lines from the movie, and then every time they'd say one of those lines ("You don't like COCONUTS? Say, brainless...") I'd glance over at him knowlingly. Guess who wished he had attended this movie with anyone other than me? Guess who's inviting Mrs. SOCIETY IS HATEFUL next year?
I'd better go get my checkerboard to work. I.am.looking.good today. Catch you later. Try not to go around hating women all day.
