I don’t know if I should write about Christmas. I wanted to write about my travels through Kenmore Sq. this morning en route to the ortho doc but even in CVS they’re playing Christmas Carols — oh excuse me, “Holiday carols” so I feel the need to contribute. Working at Harvard, I’ve also become even more aware of the term “Holiday” being politically correct. In such a multicultural environment, one must even be careful to avoid the superstitious “God bless you,” in response to a sneeze. Salud indeed.
I’m going to Florida tomorrow for the Holiday break. Because I work at a University, our office is closed until January 5th, which is brilliant. We still get paid. It makes up for the fact that I make four dollars an hour. Anyway, I’m going to Boca Raton to stay with my parents on the beach. As long as they don’t make me go to church with them on Christmas, it will be a peaceful family Holiday.
My orthopedics doctor is heavy-handed with prescription pad. She staunchly supports the free distribution of controlled substances. After my appointment this morning, I carried my narcotics down to Chinatown and made $2,000 to buy some Holiday presents for my family. Percocet’s pulling twenty bucks a pill this time of year. Must be a painful Holiday season.
Which brings us to the fact that my family doesn’t do presents. My mom reminds me of this after I’ve spent the past month picking out the perfect gifts. Not the typical Amazon.com gift certificates and fuzzy slippers from Bed and Bath — we’re talking registering my dad for a digital photo class in the adult ed center in Boca Raton, an aromatherapy massage and yoga session for my mom who has rheumatoid arthritis, and the perfect selection of goods for my sister and brother-in-law. I did it early, which is unlike me. I thought I’d try to turn around my problem-child image and be a responsible adult this year. At least concerning Christmas. All for naught.
Since it’s basically Free-Form Friday, here are Notes, not necessarily in chronological order, from the Interstate Archive:
- All babies are cute; it’s a survival mechanism.
- It is inherently creepy that those two M&M’s serve other M&M’s in a bowl.
- If you’re going to pay a fat chunk of money for a personalized neon sign, at least perform a quick grammar check.
- You can tell a lot about a person by the way they order coffee.
- You never know when you might be in Canada.
- How can I hate someone with a basset hound calendar in their cube?
- (On the 96 bus) I just want to give you things, hand them to you across the dirty bus isle, smiles, fruit, a mix of sunny songs for you to listen to all day, you in your little sun-colored get-up, strawberry blond, listening to ndie rock on your chunky head phones — I just want to give you things — a map to my house, a loaf of cranberry walnut bread, a pair of silver shoe laces.
- Kobie has the bunny inside.