Press on regardless.
Dear Internet,
I have heard rumors. Insinuations. Whispers. It seems that many in the blogosphere are hinting -- if not shouting it from the rooftops -- that men spend the pre-Christmas period doing nothing. Not stated, but implied in some instances are assorted gaseous emanations and unseemly itch relieving maneuvers.
If this is true (and I am not saying it is) you know what it means these men are? Smarter than I am. Today I spent it on a fool's errand on behalf of my beloved. A while back, while attending to my side of the Christmas (and Hanukkah, because we're ecumenical like that) gift list, TFBIM asked me to, while I was wandering through the aisles of our local MegaStuffHutTM, seek out something in the gift basket family to give her best friend. Since this is among that rare minority of friends of hers whom I consider to be imbecility-free, I nodded assent and wandered off.
A while later that day, I reported a lack of success in securing said basket. But! Two days later I managed to score an Orrefors crystal fruit bowl-ish thing down to $20 from $150, because I am human tripod like that. Only to discover today TFBIM had some impossible-to-articulate issues with the Orrefors bit, and I was back on the hook for a gift basket.
As TFBIM was scheduled for a spa day and girl's night out to see some appalling Broadway revival (Broadway being as sodden with as much originality of thought as modern socialism) I decided to make a run across the state to see what sort of goodies attached themselves to my wallet and to score the Christmas Eve porky goodness at the greatest butcher shop in Creation.
I have heard rumors. Insinuations. Whispers. It seems that many in the blogosphere are hinting -- if not shouting it from the rooftops -- that men spend the pre-Christmas period doing nothing. Not stated, but implied in some instances are assorted gaseous emanations and unseemly itch relieving maneuvers.
If this is true (and I am not saying it is) you know what it means these men are? Smarter than I am. Today I spent it on a fool's errand on behalf of my beloved. A while back, while attending to my side of the Christmas (and Hanukkah, because we're ecumenical like that) gift list, TFBIM asked me to, while I was wandering through the aisles of our local MegaStuffHutTM, seek out something in the gift basket family to give her best friend. Since this is among that rare minority of friends of hers whom I consider to be imbecility-free, I nodded assent and wandered off.
A while later that day, I reported a lack of success in securing said basket. But! Two days later I managed to score an Orrefors crystal fruit bowl-ish thing down to $20 from $150, because I am human tripod like that. Only to discover today TFBIM had some impossible-to-articulate issues with the Orrefors bit, and I was back on the hook for a gift basket.
As TFBIM was scheduled for a spa day and girl's night out to see some appalling Broadway revival (Broadway being as sodden with as much originality of thought as modern socialism) I decided to make a run across the state to see what sort of goodies attached themselves to my wallet and to score the Christmas Eve porky goodness at the greatest butcher shop in Creation.
So what am I doing now? Well, I am about to start shoving giftage into gift bags. This, incidentally, Badger assures me is the equivalent of a generic Christmas newsletter. Which is perfectly true, no doubt...but after examining my conscience, I have decided that, were this state of affairs to be true, I simply cannot be moved sufficiently enough to really care. Be glad I took the price tag off.
Then I have to ponder the matter of Boxing Day brunch.
-J.
Comments
As for Boxing Day, no brunch for us as we shall be airborn.
Cheers
This is my calling card or link"Whittereronautism"which takes you straight to my new blog.
I'm not so much excited about the Christmas Day fal-de-rol as I am excited to be trying new recipes for the breakfast.
Good ones are a little thinner on the ground down here. Comes from having too high a percentage of women who can do it all.
Or both.
seems I got a high maintenance unit this time around.
hehe
Oh, it gets better. If you read that we're eating ramen for a couple of months, it's because she also bought a ton of Bobbi Brown stuff...like I don't have enough background ovah at our old Usenet place to know that costs a kidney and a half.
Her stash included brushes too.
She tried to pass it off as being a few dollars more than a drugstore-level haul. Ha.
As if.
-J.
I'm putting together my son's outfit for the Christmas Eve family Mass: Grey and black nailhead tweed Joseph Abboud sports jacket, 100 percent white cotton shirt, purple silk striped rep tie, violet Hermes rocking horse pocket square in a four-point fold, black wool trousers, black monkstrap loafers, thin black wool socks, black belt.
Poppette will be wearing a dress with a red satin skirt pouffed out with as many layers as crinoline they could squeeze in.
I've got to wrap her iPod and then it's off to church to sing my way through two services.
Merry Christmas to the Jokes!