What a hell of a year.
I’ve certainly had better years (read: threesomes with prostitutes) but I’ve had worse years too (read: threesomes with DISEASED prostitutes), but to say that it’s been a busy year is a drastic understatement.
*The apex of my thus-far scholastic achievement was met when I graduated college. It somehow felt a little empty, spending so much valuable time and money to earn a piece of paper that I have yet to actually show anyone but the poor saps I have cornered at my house to admire said diploma. Job-type-giving people have just assumed that I am actually degreed SIMPLY BECAUSE I SAID I WAS! I mean, I could’ve fooled the system WITHOUT actually having to exert any real effort.
Kinda like this. “Of COURSE I graduated college Mrs. HR lady!”
*I changed my name, and I must admit, Princess Grace of Monaco is a MUCH cooler sounding name. And to be totally honest, I haven’t really missed my old name, although my new signature is kind of awkward looking. I suppose that in time, it will become second nature.
*In an attempt at frugality (me, yeah right) I opted to purchase some CVS-brand toilet paper. BIG MISTAKE. I have learned, via wiping my ass on what actually appears to be wax paper, that TP is something one should NEVER attempt to skimp on.
*Last January, we bought a condo in scenic Oak Park. And painted it. No longer did the walls look like “cat pee on plasterboard” they looked like brightly colored Easter eggs. Then, being annoyed at living in Oak Park, we bought ANOTHER house in St. Charles. No one said we were, uh, SMART.
*This year was a bad one for my cats. My 2 favorites died suddenly and unexpectedly, causing me an inordinate amount of grief and pain.
*I had an actual honest-to-God birthday party to celebrate my 25th year on the planet and the passing of my nursing boards. It was in the TRASHIEST nightclub in the area, but shit, 25 man!
*Any year without a new case of venereal disease is a year well spent.
*I worked in prison to channel my inner Johnny Cash.
*After channeling my inner Johnny Cash too often around my child, he began to pick up some phrasings that may not be suited to the under 4 set. Also, this may have led to my isolation from the mommy’s in the pick-up lane. WHOOPS.
*The kid fingerpainted in poo. Twice.
*I done got married.
*Being married is SO much better than GETTING married.
I’m hoping for a quieter 2006, but I don’t know who the hell *I’m* kidding.
As I previously stated, I am working on my New Years Resolution to Stop Being Such a Raging Bitch All of the Time, but I don’t think that I explained myself anymore than was necessary.
Because I was fat and drunk.
See, we’re moving. Without necessarily selling our old house. Money is about to be so tight as to possibly warrant shopping at Aldi and stealing food from my parents fridge without remorse. The remorse part, I mean. Not the stealing of food from my parents, because OBVIOUSLY. Wouldn’t you? Also, ketchup is SO a food group.
So when I was asked this year about what I wanted for Christmas, I was really vague about it, is always a bad idea when it comes to dealing with my spouse. Most of the men I’ve known need EXPLICIT instructions as to what items to buy from what store. It’s even better if you can cross reference it with some other files and use those colored tabs to make it look really official. My list (usually 278 million TIMES longer and better) went something like this:
1. Thin leather gloves. Black. From a department store. I think my glove size is about a 6.5. Ask at counter. Suede okay, too. I got some gloves from Dave pre-Christmas. They were red, fluffy, and waterproof. Purchased from Menards. Make hands look like stuffed sausages, but hell, they are warm. Do not fit and make hands sweat.
2. A ring for my right hand’s middle finger so you can have something to look at when I flip you the bird. Colorful and gaudy than wedding band. NO YELLOW GOLD, IT MAKES ME BARF. Ring size: 6.5, or maybe a 6.0. Big brightly colored stone but not from a gumball machine.
And then I ran out of things that I wanted, which is a scary phenomenon. I ALWAYS want something. I am a needy person who needs things.
The Friday before Christmas Eve, Dave began to hint that he’d gotten me something 1). Totally awesome, 2). that I wanted 3). that HE wanted, too, and I broke out into a cold sweat. Did I JUST get that NEW PRINTER THAT I HADN’T WANTED? Or was it a NEW video card for his computer THAT I HADN’T WANTED? OR could it be the yacht I’d be oogling?
Either way, I figured that the bathrobe that he had gotten from me wasn”t enough and that I had better re-hit the mall on Christmas Eve. I did, and happened to purchase him about 500 things that he’d mentioned that he wanted, none of them geek crap because I don’t buy that shit.
Christmas morning, in the form of a lanky 4 year old arrived, and we went downstairs to check out our stockings. Yes, we still get stockings. My mom is AWESOME. Dave was nearly swooning with excitement by the time actual presents were opened, and he eagerly thrust his gaily wrapped package (no, not THAT one, it was CHRISTMAS!) with gaudy oversized card (inscription: this was the last one at the store. I *guess* it’s sentiment is true) and I opened this magnificent gift!
A Nikon D50.
Made me feel bad because I had bought Dave half a dozen stars and stripes scarf sets with “World’s Greatest Mom” embroidered on the edge as a gag gift. He was shockingly touched and got all misty eyed and had to leave the room to compose himself.
Apparently, I was thoughtful.
What a freak.
This is the only way we were dumb enough to have done what we just did.
Aunt Becky (looking in the mirror, probably inspecting for stray eyebrow hair): Hey Dave, would say I was more hauntingly or more mysteriously beautiful?
The Daver (randomly looking through a pile of mail, deciding it was fruitless, leaving it half-opened in favor of the Xbox): I had a really, really great idea. We should move the fireplace from the living room to the dining room. Can I pencil you in to do that tomorrow?
Aunt Becky (looking in a mirror, trying to look at own ass): I guess so. On a scale of one to ten, how hot is my ass?
The Daver (playing with his balls): A nine. I think we should consider buying a BIGGER TV and another X-box. Then I can play 2 games at once! Doesn’t that sound totally worthful?
Aunt Becky (still in bathroom, admiring newly colored hair from all angles): I can’t believe that you just said worthful. Anyway, I told my stylist, Linda, that I wanted my hair to look JUST LIKE BRITNEY’S, and look, she didn’t dye it enough. Do I look fat with blond hair?
The Daver (eyes have glazed over, but is now staring intently at box of Munchems willing them to come to him so that he doesn’t have to get up): No, honey. Hey, you wanna go out for a beer?
Me (making kissy-faces at self in mirror with new shade of Pussy Pink lipstick): Sure I’d like to order food. Big Girl wants an egg roll.
The radiator clanks so loudly that both jump about 4 feet into the air, completely skewing what the other heard
And that, folks, may be the reason that Dave and I were stoopid enough to CHOOSE to move the week before Christmas. I can’t think of any other sane person deciding that this would be the best course of action:
Sane Guy #1: Hey, it’s a couple weeks before Christmas. Wanna move?
Sane Guy #2: Are you fucking outta your mind? What kind of idiot would move now? Huh?
Sane Guy #1 (chuckles loudly): Juuuuuust kidding. Wanted to see if you were listening to me.
Come to think of it, Guy #1 sounds pretty female.
