12.01.2002 - 5:43 p.m.
Sunday
I'm ashamed to say that I have
fully double clicked into DORK HOLIDAY MODE. I should probably
keep it a secret from you that I played a CD called "Christmas
Cocktails Volume 1" and boogied all over the house while
cleaning. I should probably omit the fact that I employed a weird
bee-dance type maneuver during the insanely catchy "Christmas
Trumpets" song mostly involving bending over and wiggling
my butt around wildly. I should definitely not tell you
that JB joined in, which made such a lovely picture of grace
and rhythm I guarantee if you happened to peek into our living
room earlier today you would have been so totally impressed it's
likely you would have ruptured your spleen and possibly several
other internal organs laughing.
What can I say, I love the
holidays.
So I discovered something about
myself this past week during our Thanksgiving vacation. I found
a tiny star-shaped birthmark on the sole of my right foot, thereby
distinguishing me as the rightful descendant of Lothar, King
of the Hill People! No. What I *actually* realized is that I
am a creature comforts SNOB. A critical, bitchy snob who finds
fault in my host's home during the holidays.
I would never bash my in-laws
here because they really are nice and, well, JB reads this. Let
me just mildly, gently point out some very minor flaws in their
household.
Flaw the First:
Cheap 1 ply toilet
paper. People, this
IS the tool of the devil. Sure, you might think a pointy
pitchfork jammed up your ass would be bad, but in reality 1 ply
toilet paper is much, much worse. I have a chronically snortley
nose and can I just tell you that blowing your shnozz into 1
ply is one of life's more difficult and unpleasant experiences.
And let's not even mention the actual main use of toilet paper
and how 1 ply is frankly simply not fit for the job. I mean,
just think how OFTEN you require a close encounter with a wad
of TP for crying out loud - why torture yourself? I'm all for
frugality but I have my fucking limits.
Flaw the Second:
Crap-ass bedding.
Ok. The concept of
"thread count" has only somewhat recently gained meaning
to me. More threads equal more softer, duh huh, duh huh. I'm
not saying I need to rest my delicate petal soft skin on 650-count
Egyptian cotton, although that would be nice indeed. I'm simply
mentioning that a bedding made from a weird, nasty synthetic
blend is ICKY ICKY ICKY. A comforter that feels as though it's
full of asbestos is ICKY.
Flaw the Third:
Weak flushing action. Yes,
we're back to the endlessly fascinating yet tasteful topic of
toilets. If there's one thing I really can't stand, it's a low-volume
flusher. You know what I mean. The sort of cantankerous toilet
that you must observe after, er, a deposit to see if the said
deposit is accepted or refused. If refused, you must heave a
giant sigh and wait impatiently for the toilet to glurgle through
its routine before you can try, try again. The sort of toilet
where you toss in a crumpled wad of crappy 1-ply toilet paper
at the last second in the feeble hopes that everything will fucking
go down already. And all the while, you've got an inceasing
panic that the entire family is sitting around wondering what
in god's name you're DOING in there for so long.
Anyway, despite the above complaints,
we had a nice time. The weather was unreal - a balmy 70+ degrees,
and not a cloud in the sky. On the southern Oregon coast! In
November!
:::
Dog + Frisbee + beach = L.O.V.E.
I don't know why I'm ducking
my head like that. Maybe a seagull just buzzed me.
go back :::
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comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005 Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004 Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004 Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004 Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004
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