I think the best part of being an adult is that if somebody sends you a Christmas present or gives you something in person you can open it. Hell, you’re 49, you can do whatever the hell you want. My friend “G” down in Manhattan did send me a box of gifts and asked that I wait til Christmas and I am, but mostly its just frenzied wild paper ripping as soon as everyone is out of sight. Can you blame me?
Like the package that arrived this last week from Arizona. It didn’t overtly say “Do Not Open til Christmas You Dirty Rotten Christmas Package Sneaker”, so one minute went by. And then two….tick tick tick. Rrrrrrriiii-iiiiipppp!!! And I was so glad I did since it was a lovely large hand made red beret from http://scotvalkyrie.diaryland.com. I have already nicknamed it the Pimp Artist beret since I look like such a bad ass in it. I can even pull it over my face and do bank robberies now. Score!!! So thanks Valkyrie and I promise I won’t tell the cops where I got my uber cool bank robbing beret.
Anyways, I went to see “A’ for my final appointment of the year on Tuesday. We have always exchanged gifts from the beginning. I usually give him something arty that I have made and he has almost always given me something candle related, which is great since I love candles. But first we had to do the year in review thingie.
Well, despite the fact that I was unemployed the entire year, I did improve pretty significantly in my social life, mainly through my art class. I had 7-8 art shows. I sold 1 painting and 7 collages. I had several people over to the house. I had two dates. I saw a Bob Dylan concert. I went to NYC to visit G. I met with 2 diaryland people. Now for someone with significant social anxiety that was a pretty good year.
Naturally we had to discuss the upcoming year as well. The ever-lovely Catching Witty a Man thing. Although if my memory serves me correctly, that’s the topic every year at this time and it never seems to work. Like this year, for instance, “A” thought I should head over to this certain bar/restaurant in the Village, where rich elderly alcoholic golf pros hang out. He knows that I know that I really don’t take these suggestions too seriously. It just seems that in recent years, every man I come in contact with, is like a toy from China…toxic if you lick them.
So I just shook my head like a good little patient, because “A” had a headache (I wasn’t causing it for a change) and then suddenly the conversation took an abrupt turn to the subject of penises. Because as you know: Alcoholic Golf Pros + lull in conversation= penises.
Penises are so 2003 though and I quickly ended that conversation by saying I could just go to my art class and see them. Yawn. Anyways it was finally time to say goodbye for the year. Usually I have my gift visible and ready to give, but this year it wasn’t. And frankly I don’t know if “A” gives gifts to all the people he sees. He has a lot of patients. But then I saw him reaching behind his chair and suddenly I’m aware of this red, oddly shaped thing hurtling through the air towards my face. “A” loves to lob presents, ya see. Fortunately I was able to catch it before suffering any cranial injuries.
I looked at the present and whined, “But I wanted a man!” and he just gave me the famous look over the glasses thing. And then I said, “Well, does it at least vibrate?” And he said, “Maybe”.
Now I was totally flummoxed by that answer. Candles don’t usually vibrate. What could it be??
But he doesn’t like to open gifts there, so we just said our goodbyes and I carried my little giftie out with me. The one all wrapped in recycled paper, bunched up and wrinkled at one end and sealed with a big hunk of masking tape. (Translation: a straight guy wrapped it). Strangely I didn’t open it when I got in the car. I had to go get some groceries and the roads were getting icy, so I just threw it on the car seat. When I got home I had so many groceries, I accidentally left it on the seat and since my butthead landlord is not clearing the ice on our sidewalks this year, I didn’t feel like going downstairs again and possibly falling on my ass.
So it wasn’t until Wednesday night when I was going to my art class, that I finally caught up with it again. So as I was warming up my car, I unwrapped it and saw this:
WTF? Oh my god! Hee hee! Ummm? Heh! WTF???? It even had a tag that said: “Four times the fun” and a button that said: TRY ME.
So I turned the button on and all four of its little round “appendages” started to not only vibrate simultaneously, but also glow with the greenish intensity of Tom Cruise’s ego.
And the noise…holy schla-moly!
The noise level was about on par with the helicopters flying over the beach in “Apocalypse Now” with Robert Duvall yelling “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” fercrissakes!
So I set my little gift over on the car seat and named it Meep and tried to think of ways to incorporate it into my trip to pick up “L” the Hippy Chick. I could hold it up in my windshield and let it blink like I was a state trooper and randomly pull over SUV drivers who are driving like idiots because they’re talking on their cell phones. Or I could hold it under my chin at stop lights and freak cokeheads out since they think they’re looking at an alien driving a Subaru. And of course my third idea was, well, you know….wink, wink. Mixing cake batter. What did you think I was going to say?
So I finally got to “L”s house and showed her Meep and demonstrated all the neat things it could do (like send signals to Mars) and she thought it was hilarious, especially when I kept randomly flipping it on at corners and scaring gangsta kids.
We had a nice holiday party at my art class. We had a mother bring her 9 week old baby to pose and the baby was incredibly docile and only fussed a tiny bit once or twice. I thought it was beautiful. Meep was out in the car, by the way.
When I got home around midnight I called my mom and said, “Guess was “A” got me for Christmas?” She always likes to play this long involved game where I give her the first letter of the word and then we’ll sit there for hours while she guesses every frickin’ word in the universe. Anyways, after a few guesses, I finally told her she’d never guess, but I would give her a sound clue. So I held Meep up to the phone and went:
There was a long moment of dead silence at the other end of the phone and then: “A” got you a vibrator?”
Frankly, I’m still in shock that my mom said the word vibrator to me.
Tags: christmas gifts