2004-12-21
My First (and last) Charlie Brown Christmas Tree
There are so MANY things to enjoy about the holidays I don't know where to start.
I think we all agree that shopping at any time in December is abysmal, because most of us wait until then to start. I, in fact, still have numerous gifts to buy, and I just returned from the post office where I finally sent off the "away" gifts (doing the box dance while in line... "stand... shuffle.... scoot boxes forward three inches... hit the woman in front of you in the ankle... exchange strained pleasantries after apologizing 90 times... stand... shuffle... etc."
HB the wonder husband and his friend "Blane" picked up the Christmas tree this year, a task I would normally handle but because it was negative 40 degrees Fahrenheit and I needed a damn tree and they offered I said, "Sure. Pick up a tree. Something nice and full, not-too-tall, soft needles, not painted." Simple instructions, yes? No. No, apparently not.
What we got was a $10 tree (bartered down from $25) which is the type of tree I detest -- long, sharp, pokey needles, painted green, and pre-bundled so we had no idea what it looked like. After rearranging the family room and getting the damn tree in the damn stand, with gritted teeth and furrowed brow, we cut off the twine and VOI-LA!
It looks like shit.
The bottom 1/4 of the tree is so barren of branches AND needles that our only alternative is to cut that sucker down about 3 feet -- I think we're looking at a "table tree" here. Further up it doesn't get much better -- the branches are so sketchy that you can see the poor tree has scoliosis and no matter which way you turn it it looks like it's about to fall over. I'm not even sure I can get lights on it, let alone ornaments.
HB assures me in that familiar condescending holiday tone that: "as soon as it warms up and we get some water in 'er she'll be BEAUTIFUL!"
This morning it was hard t tell if the twine had been removed or not. So much for that theory, Sherlock.
My first reaction was to get pissy with HB because he ALWAYS asks to buy a tree and I know precisely why: he's cheap. God love him, he's a nice catholic polish boy who grew up in a household where a fun Saturday night activity was separating 2-ply napkins into 1-ply napkins to double the volume of actual napkins, nevermind that you need at least 2 of the 1-ply to get the job done. ANYway, he knows damn well that I will happily spend upwards of $100 on a good tree, and although he hears the rave reviews we get after I do so, he still just doesn't Get It. So he and Blane, on their way home from hunting in Battle Creek, happen upon a bunch of boy scouts selling trees. Okay, I understand they are freezing. Yes, I get it that they are boyscouts. Sure, we don't have much time and this will save ME time. Agreed, SOMEone has to buy and love this tree a la Charlie Brown (but does it have to be US?!)
These are all good reasons to buy this particular tree, and I should be grateful I didn't have to do it myself this year, but we all know the REAL reason he wanted to get it: to buy a cheap tree.
Well, he succeeded.
See, the one thing I do well is the tree, and I'm always proud of it at our annual Caroling Party (the 23rd), and I was feeling slightly embarrassed by this poor excuse for a tree. In fact, I briefly considered going out and buying a new one, but then I decided to let myself get into the True Spirit of Christmas which we all know is about drinking and eating and who gives a jolly fuck about the tree anyway. I will throw some lights on it and maybe an ornament or two and no one will notice that the very top of the tree broke off in Blane's truck and it looks like it was beheaded.
FA LA FUCKING LA!
Okay, one more Christmas rant. I'm 45 years old. I've been buying and wrapping gifts -- lots of them, every year -- for 32 years. Thirteeee twooooo years. You'd think after that amount of time I might actually get good at the whole wrapping thing. Wrong. To this day I can NOT wrap gifts without losing the scissors AND the tape EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME I wrap a gift. What is UP with THAT? They are always somewhere different, too. Why can't I put them down in the same place, every time, and be cerebral about the process? Why? It doesn't seem to matter if I am sprawled out on the floor watching out for the Norelco Santa Commercial (where IS he?!), or standing at a table. I don't get it.
Today is my last day of work and we're having a potluck/gift exchange thing with my group at noon. Given that I brought my homemade Baileys in I'm not sure how much work we'll get done this afternoon....
I'll be on and off line throughout the holidays, but to all (4) of my DiaryLand friends: MERRY CHRISTMAS, and HAPPY CHA-NOOKIE to Andy and bride!!
HO-Dee-HO-HO!
xquzme at sometime today