Holiday Musak

I've had enough of it.

I don't understand why people at this company think it is acceptable to listen to Christmas carols all day long.

I finally had a meltdown and am blasting Interpol's Antics, which grows on me more and more every time I listen to it. It's amazing. I didn't think it was the first five times I heard it, but now I think its brilliant. It was the same with their first CD.

I can hear remnants of Christmas carols across the bay, but I don't care. They can call me Scrooge, Music Snob, Bitch, whatever. I'll take that over hearing Holly Jolly Freaking Christmas four more times today.

I don't feel Christmas-y. At all. I've been singing mock Christmas carols to Bench Buddy all day. He must want to kill me.

Interpol should put out a Christmas album. That would rule.

I have no spirit this year. I have no desire to celebrate holidays.

Yesterday was good. I got an amazing haircut that was worth every penny. I couldn't stop looking at it in every shiny surface. I couldn't believe it was me! I was invited to a New Year's Eve party in Harlem by my adorable hairdresser. After my fancy haircut I had one of the best nights of my life, during which D asked "Would you like me to make you an omelette?" How does he know everything?

Yet I am still moody and not feeling the holidays. It could be because Roommate got me a present and I didn't get her anything. I feel like I am dropping the ball this year. It's an awful feeling. It's not even like I feel self-absorbed - I am just oblivious, scattered, disorganized. We were talking about it, and I said to Roommate "I don't think we can be held accountable for anything that happened in 2004," because it has been crazy. Crazy adjustments. But she still has it together enough to remember to get me a present. I suck.

D got me a present too, but I didn't get him anything, because, again, I suck. I considered getting him something, but I thought that might be scary to him and also I didn't know what to get. I thought about Legos, because how fun would that be? I told him to keep whatever it is until my birthday so I can feel like slightly less of an asshole.

I bought gifts for some folks in Boston - the ones who are letting me stay with them - but now I don't even know if I'll see them.

My mother just called and told me to pack clothes for a funeral. She said he only has hours left. I had considered packing funeral appropriate attire, but then thought better of it as being prepared might be morbid and defeatist. I had decided against it as a statement of optimism, but apparently that was not a good idea. I own no nice clothes. I don't have room for a nice pair of shoes in my bag with over a week's worth of clothes and Christmas presents. I can't fathom the idea of my uncle not being with us on Christmas, nor can I comprehend my being prepared for this by packing accordingly.

And I can't believe I didn't make it in time. I booked a train at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow, in order to get home as soon as possible to see him. I talked to my boss, who agreed that it was acceptable for me to "call in sick" one day and one day only, but now it doesn't even matter. Now I get to cry on a train for four hours by myself while the rest of my family cries together today.

Bah humbug.

Yep.

But! It will be a new year soon, and once we all survive the holidays, things will be back in order.

I don't know if I am going to blog from home. I may. I may need to for sanity purposes. If I don't, happy holidays to you all, dear readers, experience great celebrations and happiness in the New Year, and I'll be back in '05.

Until then....

Wrapping Paper Rant

After The Pixies show on Saturday night I stopped by one of the millions of Duane Reades near Penn Station to buy wrapping paper for Christmas presents. I bought fabulous wrapping paper, the type that is expected of my presents. I wasn't sure it would be enough, but figured I'd just get more if the need presented itself.

I wrapped the first batch of presents last night in my delirium, and confirmed that I didn't have enough paper.

"That's fine," I thought, "I'll go to CVS tomorrow and buy some more, and shall use the coupon I got after using my Extra Care Card last week! Wee hee! Four dollars off!!!"

When I woke up this morning, the presents that I had wrapped in the cool textured pink sparkly paper had unwrapped themselves! Apparently tape and this sort of paper don't get along. "Fine," I thought, "I'll just get more paper at CVS. I had to get more paper anyway."

Today it was 5 degrees out, and felt like many below. Many, many, many below.

I was in a minor panic because today was the only day I could buy wrapping paper, as tomorrow I have my fancy haircut after work (!) and then plans afterwards, and I might be heading back to MA on Wednesday night!

Normally this wouldn't cause a panic, but man. THE COLD. Did I mention it was cold today? Like fingers sticking to doors cold. Like contemplating not eating lunch so as not to have to go outside cold.

I decided to brave the obscene cold despite my sickness and went to CVS after work.

There was no decent wrapping paper. It was fifteen minutes of unnecessary not-on-the-commute walking, and I thought I was going to die.

"No worries," I thought, "There is a Duane Reade on 14th Street... only two blocks from the subway... I can handle two blocks... only two... extra
... blocks...."

I jumped on the train and went uptown two stops to the Duane Reade, which was ON FIRE. I'm not kidding. There was a fire in the building that houses the Duane Reade. Fire trucks, police cars, chaos, tape, pedestrians being shuffled out of the way. Wtf? This is the second time in my life that my destination has been on fire. Bizarre.

I walked two blocks west of where I was, hoping to find another one, but I couldn't. What are the odds of there not being a Duane Reade? I knew there was another one three or four blocks east, but man was it COLD.

Like freezing.

Like my eyes were numb freezing.

Like you feel like your face will crack off freezing.

Like you've lived your entire life in the Northeast and still find yourself ill equipped to handle such cold despite the fact that you are wearing 47 layers of stuff freezing.

I decided to go back to Williamsburg and treat myself to a potato knish and hot bowl of broccoli cheddar soup, but of course The Bagel Store had no soup left. I then went to the Williamsburg Pharmacy where I bought three rolls of wrapping paper (because they only freaking come in sets of three) even though I only wanted the red shiny roll. The other two rolls have hideous Christmas patterns.

I got home and unravelled the roll of red, shiny paper, which isn't even enough to wrap one freaking shirt box, which is what needs to be wrapped.

Hmmmmmmm.

I wouldn't be so cross if it wasn't so cold, and if everything in NY wasn't such a project! All I want is PRETTY SPARKLY WRAPPING PAPER!!! IS THAT ASKING TOO MUCH!?!?!? CVS!!! Why have you failed me?!?! I have stuck by you in this Duane Reade Universe, but you have let me down. So disappointing.

Ahhh. I feel better after that rant. Why do the holidays make people crazy?

I think its because when its cold out all you want to do is be inside, under your covers while in your pajamas, taking shots of Nyquil while cuddling your stuffed animal or, better yet, a person. Instead you find yourself on an absurd quest in subzero conditions looking for an item that is going to be ripped to shreds and unappreciated but is super important to you because people always say "You always have the best looking presents!" You can't let the people down!

I guess it just sucks when you wasted your night walking around catching pneumonia and will still have ugly presents.

Oh well.

I am going to Nyquil now.

Word.

Happiness

Genre: Self indulgent cover of a song from a musical
Date: 12.19.04





Description:

I was deliriously tired last night when I wrote the post about being happy.

I looked at it this morning and thought "Heh, those alternate lyrics to Happiness are kind of cute."

I then spoke with my mother, who said "After your father talked to you yesterday, he said you sounded REALLY HAPPY."

I said "That, mother, is because I am really happy!" I thought "Perhaps I should be self-indulgent and enjoy this happiness by actually recording the cheesy version of Happiness I proposed last night on the blog!" Plus, it's about time I actually recorded a song from a bad musical instead of writing originals that sound like they're from bad musicals.

I had no idea when I'd do it, until I went down to the laundry room and realized that even when you have tons of quarters for the first time in weeks, you can't actually do laundry when, in addition to the change machine being broken, so are half of the washing machines.

The broken machines gave me an extra hour of time, during which I recorded this. It was a rush job. The mixdown is pretty bad, as I just finished it after Christmas shopping in the rain during which I realized I am sick. I am sitting in my apartment wearing a scarf and hat and feeling like ass, but I am not phased because I am happy.

Please enjoy my bad cover of a bad song, and if you'd like to see the words, please reference the previous entry.