Notes on the Holidays

1. On Christmas Eve, I was having brunch with my in-laws. I noticed that a guy seated two tables down from us had an unusual mustache. It was a Hitler mustache, and you really don’t see too many of them in the post-WWII era. I really wanted to point it out to someone, so I kept making head gestures in his direction, hoping Lord Kissington would take a hint and check it out. Instead, he asked if there was something wrong with my neck. This guy’s stache got me to thinking. Did he choose this mustache because he wants to look like Hitler? Had he been living under some sort of rock where he doesn’t know that his mustache makes him look like Hitler? Or does his mustache just grow that way? Of course, the last questions begs another: if your mustache grows in a Hitleresque fashion, why would you grow a mustache at all? He reminded me of my late grandfather whose idea of a good joke was to take a black comb, hold it above his lips, and give a “Heil Hitler” salute. Sometimes he would even throw in a couple of goosesteps. His jokes were always ridiculously inappropriate and not really very funny if you were over the age of 8.

2. I received my very first graphic novel for Christmas. I’ve never read a graphic novel before, but I very much like the term, as I would not want anyone to think that I got a comic book for Christmas, because it is clearly a graphic novel. My only previous experience with comic books are the Archie comics my grandfather used to buy me. After I had read them, he would come up with weird money-making schemes that involved my 8-year-old self trying to hawk the comic books to other kids. This made no sense to me because (a) they were my comic books, dammit, and (b) is there really much resale value for Archie comics? As you may have gathered from this story and the one above, my grandfather was what we euphemistically call a “character.”

3. I need a new calendar for 2007. Last year, I bought two: a tasteful Gustav Klimt to use for work and a still tasteful but totally embarrassing Orlando Bloom calendar for home use. This year, I have not been very impressed with the selection, i.e., I have not seen an Orlando Bloom calendar anywhere.

4. I received three copies of Son of a Witch for Christmas. Seriously, people, is the concept of the Amazon wishlist that hard to grasp? You look at the list, you click, you buy. I wandered around Borders today, thinking I could exchange my two extra copies, but there wasn’t a single thing I wanted. I got a ton of books for Christmas and when I combine them with the huge pile of other books that I haven’t yet read, I should be busy for the next 2 to 3 years. Also, I have approximately 42 hours of DVDs to watch, so I don’t really need anymore of those. Call me if you’re interested in a Jane Austen marathon: I’ll be examining the relative merits of Colin Firth vs. Matthew MacFadeyn as Mr. Darcy.

5. Lord Kissington got this awesome 80s box set, with all sort of amazing songs on it, so we spent most of Christmas morning fighting over which songs we wanted to hear. It totally disintegrated into a “Mom, she’s stealing my toys!” moment.

6. Every year, my mother freaks out at the last minute and is convinced that she doesn’t have enough presents for me, so she will call me up right before Christmas and ask me if there is anything I’ve bought myself recently that I might want to receive as a gift. Lord Kissington thinks this is totally insane, especially when I took Season 2 of One Tree Hill (Will Nathan and Haley’s marriage survive? Can Dan be even more of a dick?), which I had already opened, wrapped it up in Christmas paper, and brought it over to my mother’s. Actually, he’s right. It is totally insane. Particularly because when I opened it, I screamed, “Oh my God, the second season of One Tree Hill! How did you know I wanted it?” and my mother just sat there with a pleased look on her face, as if she had actually been really clever and somehow figured out that this was the perfect present. Have I ever mentioned that my family is the crazy?