I was talking to my friend yesterday about Christmas and how Santa was already in the mall for photos. During our conversation, she said, “I want to be Mrs. Claus, cause then I’d know where all the bad boys live.” I’d never thought of that before. But it’s true, why should Santa be the only one with access to the naughty list? I bet after Santa checks his list twice, Mrs. Claus checks it a third time and makes a mental note about it. I mean, what else is she supposed to do while her husband is visiting all the good kids? She’s got needs and it can’t be easy living with someone who’s overweight and has more facial hair than a hipster during movember. Thank God for the naughty list. What a lucky lady. There must be a reason that Santa is constantly saying “Ho, Ho, Ho.”
Me: Why do I keep failing?
Friend: Because that’s what you excel at most in life.
I was at a trivia night fundraiser a couple weeks ago and my cousin noticed that we were next to a table that was filled with young guys. I turned to her and said “It’s a good thing grandma’s not here, or she’d be trying to set you up with one of them right now.” My grandma does stuff like that sometimes. Like she’ll tell waiters about how she has granddaughters. I’m not around as much, so it’s mostly my cousin who has to deal with it.
The other night, I was having dinner at Taki’s on Davie street for my cousin’s birthday. My grandma was there and at one point she pointed over to another table and said to me and my cousin, “Look, there’s two hunks over there for you.” We looked over. And then my uncle turned to her and said, “Yeah, they’re gay…”. And my grandma questioned as to how we knew that and how was she supposed to know? And then we pointed out that they were having dinner together on a Saturday night by candlelight on Davie street. They held hands as they left together. They were hot and they made a really cute couple. My grandma then asked that if she had dinner with one of her girlfriends, would they be considered lesbians? We told her no.
The following week, my grandma and my uncle were having dinner and she pointed out a guy who she thought would be “a nice young man” for my cousin. Apparently he too, was gay. My friend pointed out that at least she has good taste, since gay guys are usually the best looking and the best dressed. I love my grandma. She’s not the greatest wingwoman, but she really tries.
Today I was talking to my mom and she said that in her old high school group of friends, she felt like they were like a mini United Nations, because they were such a diverse group. This made me think about one of my old groups of friend and how we had once referred to ourselves as ethnic Sex and the City. Because there were four of us and we were going out for drinks and stuff. And we were a diverse group as well.
Me: In my old group of friends, we were like ethnic Sex and the City.
Mom: And one of you was a slut? It better not have been you.
I reassured her that no, it wasn’t me. I told her that I was the Miranda, because I was bitchy. She seemed to be okay with that.
So we got an extra hour last night. But right now I feel as though I’ve lost an hour. Or several hours actually. Does anyone else feel the same way? I can’t be the only one. I’m very grateful for the extra hour. But I could really use an extra day. If only that were possible.