| Winter Days, More Likely That You Notice Heat 12.22.2002 - Winter Days, More Likely That You Notice Heat Jackson and I have recently taken to explaining any bad things that happen by saying that Jesus obviously hates us. Bad weather? Jesus hates me. I accidentally drop an anvil on my crotch? Jesus hates me. This is what I like to call "getting in the Christmas sprit." Truthfully, though, if there is a Jesus, I doubt he hates me much. Outside of the monsoon that passed through California last week, things have been pretty good. School's out, nobody I know has died recently and my newish boss, who I thought hated me, apparently likes me enough to work me extra hours and extend my contract. Also, I don't think I got fired from the paper. I don't think. Speaking of the paper, I decided to take part in the Secret Santa Extravaganza there this year. For those that equate Jesus' love with the quality of presents received, it's obvious that I'm big J's favorite at The Aggie. Megan pulled my name, and she did very well. She gave me two of my favorite pens, a pair of argyle socks, a CD, Battle Tops and two forty ounce bottles of Steel Reserve Malt Liquor, which is awesome, because I haven't slapped any hoes in at least three weeks. Megan is the best Secret Santa ever. I, however, did not fare quite so well with my gift giving. I like giving gifts, but because I wasn't lucky enough to pull someone I know, I didn't really have much to go on. I got matched up with a writer who had been working for the paper for about a week before we signed up. He listed his interests as "food, stuff for my dorm room and boys." On more than one occasion, my editor said, "buy him gay things." I don't know what "gay things" are. I considered making him a pair of bikini briefs with the word "FABULOUS!" stitched on the dong holder, but I ultimately thought better of it. Instead, I gave him candy and baked goods he did not appreciate enough to take home. I'd feel slighted if I put a grain of thought into them. The gift giving didn't stop there, though. Occasionally, people e-mail me because of my column, and if the person has the tenacity to e-mail me more than once, I usually just give her my AIM screenname to make things easier. I did this with one of my fans who proceeded to have some of the strangest conversations with me. Actual questions: So, you can see why I got a little nervous when she IMed me one day to say she had a present for me and it was very important that I get it right away. I was able to avoid her for the better part of a week because, surprisingly enough, I was actually busy. Finally, she sent me a terribly sad sounding e-mail, and I responded, saying she could drop the gift off at the newspaper's offices and ask that they put it in my box. That way, if it were like a dead animal or a teddy bear with a knife in it, at least I'd have witnesses when I opened it. She IMed me to tell me that she dropped it off, and because we were procrastinating on one thing or another, Jackson and I decided to go down to the offices late that night to pick it up. I saw the bag with my name on it on the floor of the office. When I grabbed it, I felt fur on the inside and immediately got creeped out until I saw that the fur was red and there was just a stocking inside. She stuffed the stocking with pens, hot cocoa, candy and, at the very bottom, the new Jay-Z CD. I felt incredibly guilty for doubting her intentions, but totally happy that someone would do this for me when I totally haven't done anything to deserve it. It makes me think I can coast by on my good looks forever, which in turn makes me wonder how easy actually attractive people have it. Even thoguh I do enjoy getting gifts, I don't place a lot of importance on them. Since it's been so long since my family has exchanged gifts, it strikes me as strange to hear people asking specifically for things or expecting to get a certain special something. That's not what Christmas is about. Christmas is about "you'll shoot your eye out." Christmas is about having an excuse to get fatter. Christmas is about seeing some of your family and realizing you don't hate them. Christmas is about Jewish people not having anywhere to eat out for an evening. Christmas is about ugly people getting kissed thanks to a leafy green plant that's not marijuana for a change. I guess it's also about the birth of Christ, but why drag the church into a good thing? |
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