Chirstmas Posts

Burlington seems to be a little confused.
In recent years the city has decided to create its own festival of lights, only its displays lack any thematic consistency.
Santa flying a helicopter, seals balancing balls on their noses, and dinosaurs.... I do not know what holiday they are celebrating at the lake front, but it is not one that I am familiar with.
As a result of this confusion, I have taken it upon myself to inform the entire city that these lights are ridiculous. "Performing seals and dolphins jumping out of waves have nothing to do with Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, or winter!" I shout through my car window as I drive by. I can only do these things when driving my own car because both my parents, brother, and sister all put on the child locks when I am riding as a passenger with them so that I am unable to open the windows to shout things at people.
- 12.20.07

Secret Confession: I sometimes call my brother on his cell phone when I know he is driving his car just to see if he will answer. And when he answers, because he does always answer, I proceed to cite statistics on traffic accidents involving cell phones to him.
- 12.21.07

I handed her the plaster hand and lamented about how my mother refused to mount it on the wall.
"Oh my, but you're missing finger prints on two fingers," she noted.
I narrowed my eyes and glared at her suspiciously. "Are you trying to steal my identity Grandma?" I asked, completely serious, but she just laughed.
In spite of my reservations, my Grandma is now the proud owner of one plaster replica of my hand. I am fairly certain that it is now only a matter of time before she goes on a crime spree, planting my finger prints everywhere to ensure that she is never caught.
- 12.25.07

A few years ago, in what I can only assume was an attempt at family bonding, my father bought two snowmobiles and proceeded to outfit the entire family (with the exception of my older sister because apparently she is unimportant) with skidoo suits, boots, helmets and gloves.
I will take a minute right now to explain something to you, internet. I am not the kind of person whom others look at and say to themselves, "Wow, is she ever cool." Quite frankly, I am the kind of person that people look at and say, "Wow, how did someone so completely uncoordinated ever manage to survive into adulthood?" To my recollection, only once have I ever been referred to as cool (in anything but a sarcastic manner at least), and ironically enough I was doing something decidedly dorky at the time. Cool is not something I aspire to be, so none of this has ever bothered me. But I digress...
I have made it somewhat of a mission in life to become the antithesis of cool, and so it should come as no surprise when I tell you that, in shopping for my skidoo attire, I tried to find the most horrendous outfit I could. If there had been a hot pink, nylon, one piece skidoo suit I would have fallen in love, but alas the best I could find was plain black. But for a helmet I had my eyes set on something I referred to as "the flamer".
- 12.27.07

"I'll have to think about it," I told him.
"It will be fun," he insisted.
"But the last time I went there I ended up vomiting out the sliding door of my van and snorting ecstasy off of the counter. And that's just what I can remember doing. There are entire portions of the evening that I still cannot even account for."
"See!" He says emphatically, "you had a good time."
I decided to ignore him because I knew that if I tried to say anything to the contrary he would simply argue that this "good time" happened during the part of the night that I have no recollection of.
- 12.30.07