Merry Christmas!

Rather than write you a heartfelt Christmas message, I will simply leave you with a picture of me in the over the top festive ostentatious Christmas outfit that I wore to Celebrities over the weekend.  I thought more people were going to dress up.  They didn’t.  But I rocked my outfit anyway.

christmas outfit

Merry Christmas!

Stripping with Santa

The other day I was walking down East Mall at UBC on my lunch break.  I walked past the Abdul Ladha Science Student Centre, where I saw a sign in the middle of the street that said “Sipping with Santa.”  Some student organization was selling hot chocolate for charity.  I, of course, misread the sign.  I thought what it said was “Stripping with Santa.”  This resulted in a combination of confusion and excitement until I looked at it again and realized my mistake.  Which then resulted in a combination of embarrassment and disappointment.

It’s really too bad that it wasn’t actually “Stripping with Santa.”  That could have been way more fun.  They could have had a North Pole candy cane stripper pole, Santa Baby as the main theme song, and lots of tinsel everywhere.  And I think they may have raised a lot more money that way.  Perhaps I should make that suggestion to them for next year?

santa

Mrs. Claus is so lucky

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.”

Socks tear us apart

I love socks.  But I don’t know why they hate me.  I always treat them well, but still they run and hide from me and some never return.  I know I’m not the only one who has this problem.  Every time I do laundry, socks go missing.  And it’s never pairs of socks that go missing.  No, that would be too easy.  It’s always one sock of a pair.  And then I’m left with 15 socks, all of them odd.  Where did the rest of them go?  I don’t understand!

I’ve had this problem for years.  I guess lately I’ve been even more of a mess.  Yeah, I didn’t think it was possible to be even more unorganized than I previously had been.  I guess anything is possible.  I even bought new socks not too long ago.  Not sure what happened to them.  It’s always such a struggle to find pairs.  The worst is when I search and search, and finally find a pair, only to realize that one has a hole in it.  Why?

It’s gotten to the point where it’s affecting my home life.  I begin to accuse my mom and my sister of stealing my socks.  Or blame other people for moving the laundry basket.  And then I just get frustrated at everyone because it’s such a nuisance.  When I can’t find socks in the morning, everyone suffers.  The four words my mom hates hearing from me that I ask on most days are “Do you have socks?”.  And then she’ll tell me to look in the laundry or in the drawer or wherever and I’ll get mad and say that they’re not in there and that I already looked.  And then she’ll get mad at me for yelling at her and then nobody’s happy.  And I’m still without socks.

The other day I woke my sister up from what was apparently a nice dream, in order to ask her for socks.  Because they had just bought some, but I didn’t know where she had put them.  So what was I supposed to do?  It was a valid reason for waking her up, right?  In the spring and summer, I would just wear flats or flip flops, or whatever footwear would allow me to go sockless.  But in the middle of winter, that’s not an option.  It’s also annoying that I hate ankle socks.  But sometimes that’s all I can find.

I’m pretty sure there have been many mornings where I’ve missed my bus because I’ve had to waste time trying to find socks.  Lucky for me, my mom does help me find them, on the occasions where I ask nicely and refrain from yelling.  But little things like these are incredibly frustrating for me.  Especially things that don’t make any sense.  Where do the socks go?  They have to be somewhere.  They can’t just disappear.  After all these years I still have no leads and no theories on the matter.  Am I crazy?  Do I sleepwalk and retrieve odd socks and dispose of them without realizing?  What the hell is going on?  Someone give me an answer.

Christmas Mass

Christmas day is a holy day of obligation in the Catholic Church.  This means you’re supposed to go to Mass on this day, whether or not it falls on a Sunday.  This year, it happened to fall on a Sunday.  Perhaps that contributed to the church being overwhelmingly full.  Well, it usually is for Christmas.  But I remember in the past, there would be several Masses and they would put chairs in the parish centre and hold two at the same time, just to be able to accommodate everyone.  But apparently they only do that for Christmas Eve.

Why is the church so full on Christmas Day?  Because a lot of people only go to church for the holy days of obligation, mainly Christmas and Easter.  You can often tell who’s a regular church goer and who’s not from how they act throughout the mass and whether they know what’s going on.  This was the first year that I’ve been unfortunate enough to have to stand for the duration of Christmas mass.

Maybe it’s my own fault.  I do take a bit longer than some of my family members to get ready in the morning.  I mean we went at 12:00, so you would think that would give me enough time.  But I slept in, since it was the rare occasion that I could.  But I could also blame my sister, as she took a long time as well.  While the rest of my family were able to procure seats, myself, my dad, and my sister, were not so lucky.  We weren’t late.  But on Christmas, people go super early.  And some save seats with jackets, like they do in movie theatres.  This was fine, except that I wore heels, and had a heavy jacket and no where to put it.  It was cold outside, but hot inside due to all the body heat.

Some people did come late, once the mass had already started.  Most of them were smart enough to realize, since there were already a ton of people standing, that must mean the seats were all full.  A few, however, decided that even though all these people were standing, they themselves were special, and would still get a seat.  They wandered up and down the aisle, before finally realizing there really was no room.

One man in particular, after coming to this realization, decided to come to the back and stand right in front of me.  Which would have been fine, had I not been against the wall, with another person already in front of me, with a pew in front of him.  He pretty much blocked off any room that was available for people who needed to walk by.  And people did need to walk by.  It happens, people need to go to the bathroom, take small children out, etc.  And each and every time they would have to squeeze by awkwardly because this man would not move.

The main problem occurred during communion.  When hundreds of people needed to walk by us.  Hundreds of people squeezing through and saying excuse me to me, since the man had his back to them.  But since I was against the wall, I was clearly unable to move.  This was very awkward and uncomfortable for myself and for everyone who had to pass by.  I think one of the ushers even asked the man to move at one point, and he briefly did, only to move back even closer.  I do not understand what his thinking was.

This situation caused somewhat of a distraction and impeded my ability to pay attention during mass.  It’s already difficult when you’re standing in the back, let alone with someone  invading your personal space.  But oh well.  Had it been a normal Sunday, I would have been sitting down, as the church would have been half as full.  I should have known that Christmas would be that busy and that I should have allowed myself more time.  It made sense that my sister and I stood, seeing as we probably delayed everyone the most.

New Year’s Day is also a holy day of obligation and also falls on a Sunday this year.  Maybe what happened with Christmas was a warning that I should leave the house earlier next time.  I will definitely leave the house earlier that day.  Especially since I’ll be going out on New Year’s Eve.  Standing and being crowded will definitely be much worse if I’m hungover.

Baby it’s cold outside

It’s a popular Christmas song.  A lovely duet.  So romantic.  A true Christmas love song.  Not.  There’s much more to to this song than meets the eye.  Or the ears, I guess.  But yeah.  If you really think about it and listen to the lyrics, it’s pretty obvious what’s going on here.  Date rape.

Okay, I know that seems rather extreme.  But really, that’s what it is.  I mean it’s not happening yet, but the events leading up to it are.  The girl clearly wants to go home to her family, as it’s getting late and is cold outside.  If she stays any longer, the snow will continue to pile up and she’ll be snowed in, unable to make it back safely.  If the man in the song was truly a gentleman, he would respect her wishes and call her a cab.  Instead he makes the excuse that there are “no cabs to be had out there”.  Well maybe that’s because you haven’t called for one yet?

The argument could be made that she wants it as much as he does.  She beats around the bush trying to make excuses, but ultimately doesn’t leave.  Her biggest concern seems to be her reputation.  She’s worried about what her family will think if she spends the night and that rumours will go around.  She says that she “oughta say no”, as if it’s what would be expected of a lady, as opposed to what she really wants to say.

But then she does say “the answer is no”.  Which he promptly ignores and continues on about the weather, how happy he is that she dropped by, and how delicious her lips look.  He makes her feel guilty for wanting to leave him, saying that she is “hurting his pride” and saying “how can you do this thing to me?”.  He’s clearly hoping to get her drunk enough so she’ll spend the night, and is successful in having her agree to another “half a drink more”, probably followed by the other half a drink and who knows how many more after that.  It probably wouldn’t take that many more.  She seems like a cheap drunk.

Not only does he make her feel guilty as a means of making her stay, he then tries to pretend that his main concern is for her and for her safety.  He’d be upset if she “caught pneumonia and died”.  That’s just extreme.  Clearly he’s not a doctor or a medical professional, because being in cold weather does not give you pneumonia.  Yes, it can lower your immune system and worsen conditions, but being in the cold for a bit isn’t going to kill you.  Then he just keeps reminding her of how damn cold it is outside and that he’s concerned for her, as her hands are “cold as ice”.  He lures her in with promises of a warm fireplace to escape from the storm.

How does all this make him a rapist, you ask?  Maybe he genuinely is concerned for her.  Maybe he does care about her safety and has no intention of making any moves on her.  In fact, he has a pull out couch, which he will go sleep on, offering her his bed to have a good night’s sleep until the storm has passed.  And the drink he’s going to give her is some hot chocolate or herbal tea to help her sleep.  Not.  She specifically asks him at one point “say, what’s in this drink?”.  That’s right, he’s roofied her.  At this point it doesn’t matter whether she wants to stay or if she’s worried about her family, because she’s not going to remember.

I’ve heard this song a lot this Christmas, as is the case every year.  And every time I do, I want to yell at the girl to get the hell away while she still can.  Call yourself a cab, this man will lie and say he can’t get one.  Walk if you have to, the storm can’t be that bad.  Just make it to the door before he starts with all this crap.  Call a reliable friend to pick you up maybe.  And for the love of God, don’t drink whatever the hell he’s given you!

Boxing day

The best thing about boxing day is that it’s a public holiday, which many people are thankful for.  But for those who work retail, it’s more of a nightmare.  I used to be one of those people.  I never had the privilege of taking part in boxing day deals because I was on the other side of it.  How fun that was…  Especially that time when my shift started at 7:00 am.  Oh what fun indeed…

But I have since escaped from working in the mall.  Yes, you may applaud my victory in doing so.  Last year was my first time in a while being free from it.  I’m not sure what the hell I did on boxing day last year.  But I don’t think I set foot in a mall.  This year, for some strange reason, I decided that I wanted to go shopping.  Why?  I don’t know.  I really don’t know.  But my dad happened to be free early in the day and said he would go with me if I wanted.  This was an incentive, as it meant not having to carry around a bunch of stuff, as I do not drive.  Buying only as much as you can carry home would be rather depressing on boxing day.

I looked through the flyers and there was really nothing much I could see.  And so we decided that it didn’t matter whether we went at 8, or whether we went at 10, because there weren’t any door crashers or anything we were eager to buy.  And so naturally, I didn’t get out of bed until after 9.  Because I didn’t have to.

Walmart was, I have to say, very disappointing.  As far as boxing day goes.  If it had been any other day, I would say it was a success.  But there were really no good deals, not even on electronics.  And so naturally, we ended up buying mostly food.  And when I get to buy a lot of food, that’s a success.  But I would have liked a laptop and some video games that I could make use of while eating said food.  But oh well.

It took forever to find a parking spot at walmart.  I don’t know why all those people were there considering there was nothing really worth it.  Lansdowne was very busy as well.  We bought a few items at Zellers and one at Toys r us.  I think my favourite purchase at the mall was the beef teriyaki I got at the food court.  Is that sad?

So my boxing day shopping was not really worth it.  I could have gone to more stores, but I didn’t really feel like it.  Bryan’s was having a 50% off everything sale.  As we walked by, my dad remarked that he was surprised that I stayed away.  The main reason I didn’t go in at that time was because we were walking towards to food court and I was hungry.  I did pop in there briefly afterwards, but really did not feel like trying stuff on when it was so busy.  It didn’t seem worth it.  A lot of the electronic stores had “deals” where you only saved about $20.  It’s hard to believe that people lined up super early just for that.

Maybe I should have just slept in past 12.  I wouldn’t really have missed out on much in terms of sales.  And now they have what they call boxing week, so some of the sales will continue, meaning I still have time.  I could have just lounged around the house all day, watched tv, maybe written a blog post about how I wasn’t partaking in any boxing day shopping.  But those who know me know I’ve turned into somewhat of a shopaholic and had to at least attempt to take part in boxing day.  And even though it was a fail in terms of the shopping part, I got to spend some quality time with my dad.  We failed at boxing day together.  And I consider that to be a success.