Christmas 2007. Dan and I exchange presents.
He goes first. He knows what he's getting. He's known for months. If I didn't tell him, he would have picked up The Simpsons Movie the second it came out and laid waste to my gift idea.
Now, it's my turn.
I gingerly tear off wrapping paper and there, staring me in the face in big white letters are the words, "Build a better resume!"
Huh.How....practical. I mean, it makes sense, right? I'm going to start job-hunting soon and I want my (incredibly meagre) resume to look good.
I look up at my very cute fiance who is smiling at me expectantly.
"Thanks...honey. That's so sweet of you to think about...."
I trail off, not really knowing how to finish that sentence or whether or not I can maintain a false air of happiness.
"Look," Dan explains, obviously oblivious to the fact that his fiance doesn't care for practicality when it comes to gifts. "See, it comes with this great pamphet!"
A pamphlet? I'm supposed to get excited about an effing pamplet?!
He thrusts a flimsy stack of papers at me and smiles. Damn it, he's cute. I half-heartedly rifle through the paper, wondering how you can know someone from the age of fifteen and not really know them at all.
Then, something odd catches my eye. Bold text reading, "Wachovia Center."
I flip to that page and my heart pretty much stops.
Thursday, February 21.
8:00 p.m.
Wachovia Center.
THE FOO FIGHTERS.
I stare at Dan, my mouth agape and he's doing that incredibly cute and incredibly annoying thing with his mouth -- the smile that says, "Ha ha! I gotcha, you sucker!"
"Dude...." I quietly intone while his mom, sister and brother-in-law look at me. The wave breaks and I let out an almighty shriek:
"DUDE! WE'RE SEEING THE FOO FIGHTERS!!"
The family cracks up and engulf Dan in a huge hug. Best. Present. Ever.
Thank God he uses his powers of deception for good and not evil.
In other Christmas-related news, my parents and sister might just be the coolest people ever. Why? Because this is what they got me:
My sister got me Eat, Pray Love by Elizabeth Mitchell. That's not the best part. This is -- she enclosed a note that made reference to her being a "d-bag" and then, signed it 'Sarikaisawesome.'
Indeed.
My parents gift was very, very cool. Most parents use Christmas as a time to eke out sweet little Hallmark moments between them and their kids. My parents wrote me a very nice note telling me how much they missed me and how they hope my first Christmas in PA is a good one...and attached said note to Ego-Trip's Big Book of Racism -- a tome which features the 'Are You A Racist' quiz. Sample question:
It's the annual Puerto Rican Day Parade. Boricuas from all across this great nation with descend upon the Manzana Grande to commemorate:
A) ass
B) Ass
C) ASS
D) AZZ (Boo-yow!)
Yeah. My parents are from the five six ace in the Gunshine State...and it shows.
I hope everyone had a very happy holiday. Tell me all about it!
He goes first. He knows what he's getting. He's known for months. If I didn't tell him, he would have picked up The Simpsons Movie the second it came out and laid waste to my gift idea.
Now, it's my turn.
I gingerly tear off wrapping paper and there, staring me in the face in big white letters are the words, "Build a better resume!"
Huh.How....practical. I mean, it makes sense, right? I'm going to start job-hunting soon and I want my (incredibly meagre) resume to look good.
I look up at my very cute fiance who is smiling at me expectantly.
"Thanks...honey. That's so sweet of you to think about...."
I trail off, not really knowing how to finish that sentence or whether or not I can maintain a false air of happiness.
"Look," Dan explains, obviously oblivious to the fact that his fiance doesn't care for practicality when it comes to gifts. "See, it comes with this great pamphet!"
A pamphlet? I'm supposed to get excited about an effing pamplet?!
He thrusts a flimsy stack of papers at me and smiles. Damn it, he's cute. I half-heartedly rifle through the paper, wondering how you can know someone from the age of fifteen and not really know them at all.
Then, something odd catches my eye. Bold text reading, "Wachovia Center."
I flip to that page and my heart pretty much stops.
Thursday, February 21.
8:00 p.m.
Wachovia Center.
THE FOO FIGHTERS.
I stare at Dan, my mouth agape and he's doing that incredibly cute and incredibly annoying thing with his mouth -- the smile that says, "Ha ha! I gotcha, you sucker!"
"Dude...." I quietly intone while his mom, sister and brother-in-law look at me. The wave breaks and I let out an almighty shriek:
"DUDE! WE'RE SEEING THE FOO FIGHTERS!!"
The family cracks up and engulf Dan in a huge hug. Best. Present. Ever.
Thank God he uses his powers of deception for good and not evil.
In other Christmas-related news, my parents and sister might just be the coolest people ever. Why? Because this is what they got me:
My sister got me Eat, Pray Love by Elizabeth Mitchell. That's not the best part. This is -- she enclosed a note that made reference to her being a "d-bag" and then, signed it 'Sarikaisawesome.'
Indeed.
My parents gift was very, very cool. Most parents use Christmas as a time to eke out sweet little Hallmark moments between them and their kids. My parents wrote me a very nice note telling me how much they missed me and how they hope my first Christmas in PA is a good one...and attached said note to Ego-Trip's Big Book of Racism -- a tome which features the 'Are You A Racist' quiz. Sample question:
It's the annual Puerto Rican Day Parade. Boricuas from all across this great nation with descend upon the Manzana Grande to commemorate:
A) ass
B) Ass
C) ASS
D) AZZ (Boo-yow!)
Yeah. My parents are from the five six ace in the Gunshine State...and it shows.
I hope everyone had a very happy holiday. Tell me all about it!
2 comments on "The art of Christmas sneakery as done by an expert"
LOL. Better you than me! If I were you I would've been glaring at him from the moment I unwrapped the book!
I wanted to, but he looked so damn cute and pleased with himself that I couldn't bring myself to do it :)
How did your boy treat you this Christmas?
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