So today is Christmas and between the lady and I, we’ve gotten many a text message wishing Meli and Brian a Merry Christmas.
And I’ve told them all… my name is Bryan, goddammit. With a Y.
(They mean well)
Today’s also been a beautiful, dry, arid Christmas, which is nothing out of the ordinary for me. See, I’m from Colorado, and people that have never been there just assume it snows its ass off year round. Apparently we live in the North Pole, and everyone just skis everywhere. People here don’t drive cars, they just ski to work or snowboard to school or ride a penguin to work.
So I’ll go ahead and set the facts straight. I’ve never held a pair of ski poles in my life. I once tried a friend’s snowboard on a very small, snow-covered hill, and while I didn’t actually 'snowboard', I did 'fall down the hill, on my ass, repeatedly', until I decided this was a stupid method of transportation and left that job to my small collection of cars, none of which will leave bruises on every inch of your body. I'd probably have had better luck riding that penguin, though that sounds highly disturbing in itself and the use of a saddle and the direction in which the penguin faces quickly becomes the difference between 'riding' the penguin down an icy hill and 'aggressively raping' the penguin down an icy hill.
What the hell was I talking about?
Right. Winter weather. So lastly, and most importantly, we don’t get white Christmases. Don’t ask me why, but the typical Christmas Day is a little cold (40-50), and very dry. I can’t actually remember the last white Christmas I had. I think in 2006 I wore shorts and sandals to Christmas dinner. Not that the level of snow defines your enjoyment of Christmas... it doesn't matter whether it's dry as a bone or 6 feet of snow outside, Aunt Evelyn's still going to give me that awful sweater that makes me look like a Harvard math major.
This year, however, I’m in Vegas with the lady and in the in laws, so it’s especially hot and dry. Seeing nativities and big inflatable Santa Clauses and animatronic reindeer in yards looks absolutely ridiculous, seeing as how there’s no grass, certainly no snow, and it’s framed by nothing but sand, rocks, and palm trees.
I’m hoping for a visit from Santa, but since it’s so damn hot, I figure he and his reindeer might just burst into flames upon atmospheric entry. Plus, being as how this is sin city, I’m imagining the amount of coal he’s lugging on that sleigh has only added to his overall flammability. In retrospect, a terrible combination and he has no one to blame but himself.
So until he comes, you can find me in the shower, taking an extra cold one (and drinking an extra cold one) to keep cool, and to all of you out there… Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanza, Happy Hannukah, Happy Festivus… whatever the hell you celebrate, regardless of whether you believe in Santa or Jesus or flying reindeer or the flying spaghetti monster… quit your bitching and just enjoy your day off.
Beer: Home-brewed (ale with a touch of raspberry)
Shower: Evaporating way too quickly for my liking