Saturday, December 26, 2009
My Christmas Vacation - by me!
My Christmas Vacation
Christmas. It's that special time of year when we put our differences aside in order to gather mass quantities of gifts we either do no want, or pretty much, do not deserve.
Yes! It's that time of year we take every penny we don't have and apply the "mine is bigger than yours" rule.
Full of glee.
Some people say that it's the "most wonderful time of the year." And I say - go for it!
I am a fan of free shit - I mean gifts... :)
Bring me your stocking stuffers, bring me your gluttonous meals, bring me that Wii that we really won't use. BRING ME CHRISTMAS!
[as shown by the above statement I fall into the "grinch" category when it comes to this holiday]
But this year... OH! THIS YEAR! I decided to try. [having a kid will do that to even the strictest cynic]
Enter Wednesday - the day before Christmas Eve.
There is this show - the show of all shows at a local club - featuring something like 43  bands. It goes well - the only hitch is that we originally decided to get a cab but as the days rolled on most people back out do to the fact they all had their "lady's days" [and I'm referring to the men] so I made a deal with my husband that I would be the driver for the evening. I really don't drink that much these days so, honestly I don't mind.
LET THE NIGHT BEGIN.
Pick up my 25 year old cousin - there to remind me why I'm no longer 25 and why I no longer want to be 25 - we headed out to the club, located at good 20 minute drive from our home town. We get there, the goings good, I have a few beers (seriously, I have 2) and then we decided to jet off to our next local.
By this point one of my husband friends is wasted and has been hitting on me for the better part of the night. He's harmless, and my husband is standing next to him through most of the drunken comments about my butt, so I don't much care. I'm good at ignoring that kind of thing and if the husband is fine with it, it's not like my self-esteem is saying "NO! PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU THINK I'M CUTE!" [not very proud of that - but alas... I am still human regardless of what that Superhero ID card I had printed up off the internet years ago] So my ego is about the size of Texas at this point, I've fallen off the "no smoking" wagon [AWESOME!!], and now we're going to drive from E.155th to W.25th - yes that would be a hike.
I'm driving a 1999 green chevy cavalier.
Inside - 3 really drunk guys and me [and my ego, so there really like 7 of us].
When I hear... "There's a cop. A cop just go on the highway."
This has been known to happen. From time to time law inforcement is forced to use the motorways thus improving their driving time... weird. I know.
The sentence is bouncing around the car from drunk to drunk and now I have to make a decision on which road to take - should I split to the right or should I split to the left.
WTF?! ARE THOUSE RED AND BLUE LIGHTS IN MY REAR VIEW MIRROR?
Suddenly my two beers feels like two kegs.
It's two days before Christmas, my son's at my in-laws, and I'm going to jail.
"Merry Christmas baby! Can you send mama a carton of smokes and a file in a cake?"
I start chanting "See lights. Go right." in my head, as a reminder seeing, once, I didn't - I went left. I pull out my license, roll down the window, hear "please get out of the car."
Little 'ol me, standing on the shoulder of the fricking freeway - 3 drunks - [my ego is sooo gone]
The cop says, "I just need to run your license, if it comes back clean you can go."
The last time I had a moving violation was in 1997.
I get back in the car - which I was kindly assisted to by the to over sized beefy Cleveland Cops - I wish them both a Merry Christmas and I start the car.
An array of "holy shits" and "your a god" [ego? is that you again? SHOT GUN!]
By this point I'm shaking. My hands. My legs.
I can't believe I'm driving.
I can't believe I'm not in holding.
Seriously. There IS a god and he/she was RIGHT THERE and they let me go with a message. That message was:
GET YOUR SKINNY WHITE ASS BACK INTO THAT DILAPIDATED CAR AND DRIVE YOUR DRUNK FRIENDS AND FAIMLY HOME! NOW!!
So we drove to another bar.
I just wanted to sit down.
I needed some water.
I needed some coffee.
I needed a cigarette.
I needed a valium, a vacation in the bahamas, and to be warm - as I was holding my son.
My cousin buys me a beer, which I have 4 sips of and then I move over to water - the beer was great but 11 proof and I'm pretty sure that I'm already pushing my luck by being here so I get situated and then go outside with my husband and swear a lot.
A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT! A LOT!
I go back inside and meet a lovely man who asks me if I'm a model.
After I laugh at him in his face [A LOT! A LOT! A LOT!] I sit back down.
Enter Phase Stupid - part dos <- FANCY!
My new friend is now dancing behind me as I sit at the bar talking to the bartenders about things like, why there's a samurai sword behind the bar [that one of the bartenders tried to use on his birthday], how the weather sucks [see! It's not just me!] and how smiling really won't kill a person [regardless of what the bartender thought - he didn't want to smile - unless I begged him too...] The guy behind me keeps telling anyone who will listen that I'm a model and was on Top Model [my ego has checked out by this point, it's late and I'm tired. I figure it's off in some warm cozy bed some place and I wish I was with it] I no longer want to be part of this so I go find my husband and tell him that I need to step outside - the guys getting annoying and I need to make out with the husband in front of him so he'll back off.
As we're heading out doors we are stopped to be told my cousin, a.k.a. our "boy" has wandered off - did I mention he live in Arizona?
I chase him down the street as he sputters drunk comments at me, we haul him back to the bar - gather out things (including one other person) and then head off - to where? TO GET FOOD OF COURSE!
OH! I FORGOT! I'VE BEEN UP SINCE 4AM!
We go eat and by 3:30 I look at everyone and say - "GET IN THE CAR OR BE LEFT BEHIND!"
"Aww.. come on!! Did you see those chicks? They're soo hot!!!" [cuz I care about that?] So I drive them all home, make it to bed and sleep until my drunk hubby tries to wake me up for some lovin'...
My ego, energy and eagerness to act cute is gone. I tell him to go to bed and I sleep a whole 5 hours...
SON OF A BI......
...This concludes the portion dedicated to December 23rd. Let's zip forward to CHRISTMAS NIGHT!
I can't sleep again. I'm bouncing from couch to bed to couch. By 4:30 it's become apparent my night is over so I lay on the couch till about 5am. At 5 I sit up, commit to the idea of coffee and writing and make my way into my kitchen.
I do this ALL THE TIME. No biggie...
But this time there is someone staring in the back window looking at me.
THERE IS SOMEONE IN THE EFFIN BACK WINDOW OF MY EFFIN HOUSE STARING AT ME!!
Paralyzed with fear, well, after I run upstairs to get my husband - I can't decided to wake him or just call the cops. [cuz there's some freak jerk staring in my kitchen window at 5 am in the freaking morning the day after Christmas. Who does that? Who's "that" guy!??] I'm so out of my mind I crawl into bed and try to calm myself. I decided they'll go away. Right? They'll go away... but what if they don't?! What if they're still there when I need to get up with my son?!!! WHAT THEN?
Enter tears streaming down my face.
I can't breath.
I can't see.
I can't think.
I kinda want to vomit.
So I wake up my husband.
He runs downstairs to confront the guy [in his boxers - you know - it's like battle armor, but not at all] after a few moments I come down...
Yeah. It's a freaking dummy.
The bust of a mannequin propped up on our trash can - waiting to scare me shitless.
I hope on my phone and post a thing on facebook - we know we must know this person who did this to us on Christmas night... When I see a post on my page and my husband's page that says "Hows Gail?"
My brain is fried.
I still can't breath.
I still wanna vomit...
It takes a minute...
SON OF A BI.......!!!!
And my son wakes up.
Yes. I've been up since 4:30 am. It's now 11pm and the only thing I can think is that these things seems to take a night off so I'd better get some rest, because tomorrow is gonna be a doozy.
Maybe I'll get pulled over by a drunk mannequin who thinks I'm a contestant on that RuPaul show...
My ego probably would be happy if I was an attractive 7 foot tranny... right?
Yes... it probably would be...
I need sleep...
Otherwise! CHRISTMAS WAS GREAT! The husband got me the Bourne Series!! LOOOVVVEE ITTT!!
Ho! Ho! Ho!!
Christ... it just hit me... next week is new years...
It's official. I'm crawling under my house now.
It's just safer that way.
good night... and good luck...