Thursday night, I’d finally had enough wallowing and whining, so I told Crys that I was about to go all Eye of the Tiger on the Christmas tree I’d neatly transported from that life to this – with, I feel compelled to add – only a few minor bruises and a cut finger, which certainly isn’t nearly as horrifying as it could have been.

I’d already lugged everything in from the car, which made a grand mess in my wee apartment, adding, I like to think, a little rustic – yet slobbery – vibe to the place. I mean, who doesn’t go apeshit with The Awesome for stuff in cartons you don’t have anywhere to store? (answer, obviously, is “anyone.”)

Mimi was waltzing her big girl ass over here for our weekly girls night the following evening and I figured we’d spend the weekend decorating my apartment festively, as, most of you well know, I wear a #1 finger for Christmas – and no, not the YOU’RE number one finger. As I didn’t really want my daughter to watch me mangle a tree from – literally – the fifties into submission because there’s no amount of therapy THAT can undo, I was all proactive and shit. I nearly patted myself on the back, if only I could’ve reached that far.

The tree was a hand-me-down from the first year we were married, given to us by my sister-in-law’s parents, who apparently never get rid of anything, a trait I find remarkable in others, especially considering I cannot, for the life of me, find your standard, garden variety, scotch tape. None of this fancy “electrical tape” for this girl – nope. I may SPEAK fancy, but I’m all about the plain Jane tape.

(this means, Pranksters, that my presents will be wrapped with duct tape this year. Thems be the very colorful breaks)

(double sorry for anyone who gets a present from me. Should be a *ahem* challenge to unwrap)

Our first year together, Dave assembled the tree as I watched, my mild-mannered husband swore like, well, me, which lead me to understand one thing (okay, two):

1) Dave should NEVER be allowed to do tedious housework

B) Putting together fake Christmas trees requires a Masters in Awesome..

Since my parents were the sort who chopped down their own Christmas trees and made syrup from um… those trees that give you the stuff to make syrup (*I’d* been under the impression came from Mrs. Butterworth and her quaint, homey – and terribly refined – apron), I knew nothing at all about fake trees beyond “they come out of a box and smell like burnt hair.”

And once that first tree was up, it was a sight to behold. I’d petitioned for a real tree, but with carpeting and dogs and cats and kids, I was summarily denied, and for good reason. There are probably STILL needles in the most odd places left from the one year we did manage a real tree.

So I figured, if I’m going fake, I’M GOING MOTHERFUCKING FAKE. And I did. And it was awesome:

this that and the other thing

Whoops. Wrong photo. That was me. A very surly bag ‘o’ jelly beans. Very little has changed since first grade. I’m taller now, I think. 

this that and the whole damn thing

WHOOPS! I’ve got to stop naming my snaps shit like, “Tate the asshole hedgehog,” because then I get all excited to see what it is and it’s NOT my fug ass tree.

this that and the whole damn thing

See? The tree? I mean, okay, if you can’t see it, it’s on the left there (or is it the OTHER left?) and you know you’re a bad blogger when your snaps aren’t actually aimed at your intended target.

Also: SQUEE! When did Ben get so fucking OLD?

So the tree. We put it up twice, each time, Dave swearing like an asshole, causing me nearly to go into labor and then we moved onto a more…adult-looking fake tree. At least, the thing was green and not white. Which did NOT make me particularly happy, by the by.

When I moved out, I thought it only natural that I’d take the old white tree, because, well, I’m tacky and Dave’s an adult.

Which brought me to Thursday when I was all ramped up and ready to be festive, motherfucker. I could TOTALLY put together a tree and shit, even if it was rusted and appeared to be flaking lead paint. I was ALL ready to kick some ass.

Until I realized that things – even aluminum – do turn to dust eventually and I was missing the top half of the tree. So okay, it was really that I was missing the top half of the tree, so stop humming “Dust in the Wind,” will you? PLEASE? That song gives me hives.

What I’m ashamed to admit about the tree is not that it was half broken or that I was going to need a new tree if, in fact, I wanted to deck the motherfucking halls, it was that it took me finishing the bottom of the tree to note that the top of the tree was missing. I won’t lie: I was ashamed for a couple of minutes before I spent some quality time intensely debating whether or not I should, in fact, leave it as is. Make it a truly Charlie Brown Christmas.

It didn’t take long for the remnants of the tree to make it into the trash.

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21 Responses to This, That and the Whole Damn Thing

  • This, That and the Whole Damn Thing http://t.co/EQmA077i

  • Cindy
    Twitter: WalkerCynthia
    says:

    Damn it, AB, I wanna see the fucking tree. Oh well, I’ll get over it. Hope you find the perfect sparkle sparkle tree!

  • lauren says:

    I have something for you. Can you e-mail me? Does my comment give you my email?

  • Barbara says:

    Our pre-lit tree shorts out if you so much as look at it funny. I’m hitting up Target day after Christmas and finding us an awesome on 70 million percent off.

  • Gwensarah says:

    My fake tree is insanely easy to put together. Three pieces, snap snap snap, fluff and DONE. It’s also pre-lit (white lights which sucks because it’s boring but I just add MOAR lights in ALL TEH COLORS) It’s not the biggest (6ft) and cost 40 bucks (I think) but it’s user friendly.

  • bekkitae says:

    Four sparkly words, Aunt Becky…
    Fibre.
    Optic.
    Christmas.
    Tree.

    Or you can do what we do, and sod off the Christmas tree and celebrate Piratemas instead :)

  • Cindy
    Twitter: medinacd
    says:

    Kinda bummed Becks. Those 4 white faux pine needles had me waxing all nostalgic. But now is the best/worse time to get a new one. <3 and congrats again on the award :) U totally rock.

  • KaraB says:

    Forever I have been using the fake tree that was in my mom’s house when I was growing up. (She got my grandma’s old one, we inherit fake trees!) I totally know what you mean about the rust, paint and scary jabby parts, at least mine has scary jabby parts.

  • Grace says:

    This is why I DO NOT disassemble fake trees. Just throw a plastic bag over the top to keep the dust to a minimum and throw it in the basement. I realize you no longer HAVE a basement, but ya know – for the future.

  • Cindy DuBois says:

    I get all full of the Christmas awesome for about 2 or 3 days sometime in mid December and then it is OVER. For instance, right now, I’m sort of in the mood to make a sign in lights (I have no clue how to do it) that replicates that bumper sticker that says, COEXIST with the different religious symbols on it. But that feeling will pass well before I get the project started or finished.

    By the time Christmas actually gets here I’m done with it. I don’t have children so it’s okay I’m not disappointing anyone with my bah humbug. Besides it’s 80 degrees here in Austin. How do you get the Christmas spirit when you can still wear shorts?

  • jeri says:

    Last year when I bought my first ever fake tree (at everyone’s very favorite store) the sealed box contained one bottom, one middle and TWO tops. How did your tree top get into my sealed box in NYC? For the first time ever, I actually threw something out. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was yours. And why did your white tree have a green top?

  • Jolie says:

    You mah friend, are amazaballs. ?

  • Cynthia Bennett says:

    I wanna see your new tree!

  • gorillabuns says:

    I have been known to pin disco balls into the shape of a tree on my wall because I wanted more shimmer in my life.

  • DiatribesAndOvations
    Twitter: DiatribesAndOs
    says:

    About forty second after putting away the last empty box, I started dreading the “taking down” of Christmas decorations. I think I may have been enjoying them just in fine while they were tucked away in the attic.

    Are “feeling festive” and “drinking” mutually exclusive?

  • Triplezmom
    Twitter: triplezmom
    says:

    Our hand-me-down fake tree sheds like a real one. Also, every year I’m convinced it’s missing parts and every year I”m totally wrong. Fake trees are difficult,, yo.

    Love you.

  • Joules says:

    New tree for a new beginning. Bedazzle the shit out of that thing, yo.

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