Monday, December 14, 2009

Christmas past

I should know a few things for sure by now. One, bourbon is not a "quantity" drink. Two, it should not be mixed with chili or any bean-based food (that also contains a tomato base). Yes, so, you can probably see how my weekend shaped up. Sunday was a bit rough, mostly because I'm in denial that I have a gigantic ulcer and also because it snowed/rained/iced for a good part of what I will call the "functional section" of my day.
Was it worth it? That's always the question I ask my friends. Was it worth the fire pit in my guts? Was it worth eating a whole bottle of Tums and then chasing it with Excedrin migraine for breakfast? Was it worth feeling like I was wearing socks on my teeth from all the cigarettes I smoked out by the little social fire?
I couldn't pay for conversations like these, not anywhere. Parties (especially parties where there are drunks, gay neighbors, teachers, red necks, born-agains and writers) are fodder for material, especially dialogue. For instance, when gay neighbor number 2 arrived, I'll call him Odin, he greeted the various dogs circling the place.
"Hey guys, Muyo Gayo is here. C'mon, give the gay boy the stick." All the while he is supporting his larger female friend, I'll call her Beth, who has arrived dressed all in black drinking Merlot directly from the bottle. Why bother with a glass? Seems so formal and useless at this point.
And then there are the topics of conversation, again, brilliant.
"Ya know, that guy deserves to have Napoleon complex!"
"I'm not wearing much under these bibs..."
"Now my f***in' snowmobile is sitting up on an engine lift, can't even use it."
"The spirit is really moving in our lives."
"I'm 6'7", if someone can make eye contact with me, that's freaky."
"Cymbalta really gets you to a lower anxiety baseline, whereas Xanax deals with anxiety at the moment."
"Yeah, I have to take my brother to the methadone clinic tomorrow. No days off here."

I could go on, and I will, when I finish writing my holiday novel.
In other news, we are stealing our Christmas tree today, so it could go one of two ways. The theft goes of without a hitch, kids get home from school and start piling on the decorations or, the kids don't see the livingroom for 3 months because their parents are serving time.

I'll let you know. I'm sure they have ethernet in jail.

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