Didn't it seem like this holiday season is really long? That, in particular, this week felt like an extra week? Do you know what I mean?
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Anyway, I went to My Asshole Brother's place Sunday morning, and although we didn't speak to each other, he wasn't an asshole. He was trying to cajole my niece into opening the present I gave her, which I appreciate. I planned on staying there an hour and I stayed 90 minutes.
That both tired me out and altered my schedule. I wanted to stop and wish well Grandmother's best friend. She remains in good health, although her short-term memory continues to falter. With one possible exception -- I think she remembers Grandmother passed away.
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One of the personal traditions I have is going to Southdale as the malls close Christmas Eve. I usually walk all the way around Southdale, then finish up by buying a slice or two at The Cheesecake Factory. This year it's only one, since my sister-in-law packed up a lot of food for me. In fact, I have a lot of food given to me, period.
Since the health insurance place is so close to the Mall Of America, what I had done was go to the Megamall after doing my half-day for Christmas Eve, then head to Southdale. But since Christmas Eve fell on a Sunday, I kind of flipped the mall-visiting. I went home from Southdale to store the food given to me and the cheesecake I bought, and then I took my parents' minivan to MOA to eat at Hooters. Eating at Hooters might be one of the new Christmas traditions I do.
Another tradition I'm trying to make an annual thing: Going to Merlins Rest Pub for either scotch or whisky around midnight. I think Merlins is the only bar in town open full hours on Christmas Eve -- which, in my humble opinion, has become the most sacred hours of the holiday season. We anticipate Santa and the birth of Jesus Christ, and once those moments pass, Christmas seems old. We're done with it as soon as the holiday comes. Really, we're ready to get back to our old routine come Christmas evening. Heck, Christmas afternoon. Heck, maybe even Christmas morning.
Yeah, my thoughts are all over the place. That might be because of the strong Scotch, followed by the mulled cider, I got at Merlins. I went through all my receipts and wrote them down in my Franklin Quest while I was there. Left 15 minutes before closing time. Time well spent.
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More cars on the road coming back from Merlins in the 2 o'clock hour than I thought there would be, or should be.
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My plan is to hermetically seal myself inside all day today/Christmas because, hey, it's the holiest day in the Western calendar. That doesn't mean I don't have stuff to do. I have to do some alumni stuff, I have to cook food, and there's still that darn water leak I have to deal with.
You know, this is the time of the year where I should feel the most safe at home. It's not as if I think I'm going to lose power or anything, but there are enough things wrong with the house right now -- all because of the water pipe leak -- where I cannot feel entitled to that.
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I am running out of Christmas tunes I really, really like. So for this year, my embedded Christmas song is a parody song, one from Saturday Night Live's "TV Funhouse" shingle. It is Christian privilege to assume that everyone celebrates Christmas when there are many people who do not -- Jews being one of them. That's the basis for this song, "Christmastime For The Jews." I'm guessing a lot of this is made up -- riotously so, courtesy of the great Robert Smigel -- but the singing, spearheaded by the great holiday singer Darlene Love, is pure, genuine joy. And the Motown-inflected song is a toe-tapper.
For all those who observe, Merry Christmas. And for all those who do not, best wishes to you.
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