|My best picture face|
I’ve got another face growing on my face. You can’t see it yet but I can feel it, hovering there under the surface like the gopher from Caddyshack, waiting to emerge and mock me. It always happens near the holidays, when there’s the highest chance of photographic evidence. I’ve managed quite sneakily to ensure that there aren’t many photos of me in existence by being a photographer and having the nicest camera that no one else (conveniently) is able to use. I hate having my picture taken. Not because it steals your soul—it does, but that’s not why. It’s because I always make a weird face in pictures because I hate posing. I like silly or goofy pics but if you want me to be serious forget it. I have a look that’s one part boredom, one part confusion and just a dash of defiance and mild constipation. Fun for the whole family.
|Super cool poser type kid :-)|
Little kids like having their picture taken (not babies though—babies are the cutest but super rude about photos) and beautiful thin people, but everyone else pretty much hates it. I know because I walk with a camera most of the time, and about ninety percent of adults will say no please, I hate having my picture taken. And since digital cameras were invented, if I do convince someone not to flip me the bird for five seconds so I can snap off a shot, they always want to see the picture after it was taken and then they want you to delete it because they always think they look fat or ugly and they don’t appreciate me saying that it’s not the camera’s fault if they are fat and ugly so why should I delete this picture that I took? People actually hate that comment.
This morning it is so windy and stormy that I’m quite concerned for the poor little elves and reindeer enslaved by a so-called jolly fat man. They shouldn’t be out in this kind of weather. And I know always in pictures and storybooks it’s all beautiful moonlit nights and lots of stars and whatnot, but in reality they must hit bad weather more often than not. And why no one ever protests this whole fiasco is beyond me. Where is PETA? Where is OSHA? Where is CPS? Okay so I don’t know who is in charge of protecting elves. Legolas, maybe. Or is that crossing mythical genres? I don’t know.
|Totally good elf protector|
But anyway I feel sad thinking about poor Dasher and Dancer and Rudolph. Not Prancer though, he seems like kind of a jerk, based on the movie. And Comet and Cupid and Vixen but not Donner either, because he makes me think of the Donner Party which not only wasn’t a fun party but even though I know Donner probably doesn’t eat human flesh I can’t be sure so he’s out of luck on the sympathy front. Zombie flying reindeer would be exceptionally dangerous during the zombie apocalypse. Anyway, Donner is out. Blitzen too, because he sounds like a big football player or Nazi but I’m not sure why. I hold him responsible for leaving Rudolph out of the Reindeer Games. It seems like something Blitzen would do.
I think about things like this near Christmas time. Because I’m concerned. Because I care. Because I don’t actually like the idea of flying reindeer and fat men in my chimney. That sounds sort of dirty. But really. What if the structural integrity of my roof is compromised by the weight of the sleigh and the reindeer and an obese man jiggling his belly like a bowlful of jelly around on top of it? And who jiggles jelly, anyway? I just spread it on toast without shaking of any kind. That seems uncalled for. And not very merry. And this is a merry time of year, despite people who try to ruin the merriment.
|Normal reaction to me with a camera|
When I say Merry Christmas, I mean it. I am not politically correct. I think people who throw major fits about that kind of thing are jerks. Because I don’t say “Merry Christmas” in a way that secretly means “Screw you and your stupid beliefs, you should believe what I do and I don’t really want you to have a merry anything, I am just saying it to be a jackwagon.” If I wanted to call you a jackwagon I would. I would just walk right up and say hey you are stupid and I hate your face. But I don’t. Merry Christmas just freaking slips out, people! I say it because I think you look like a nice person and I want to wish you some cheer. All you gotsta say is hey, I’m Jewish, and I will be like cool, Merry Chanukah friend. Or hey, I’m Chinese, and I’ll be like happy December or whatever, I respect your beliefs and I think you're cool, and my words were only meant to convey my sincerest well-wishing on you today. It’s like when you say happy birthday to someone and instead of saying thank you they’re like I don’t celebrate birthdays. Okay, jackwagon, I retract my good vibrations that I was sending your direction, and am now sending you a voodoo curse that will cause a rash on your giblets. Because obviously that’s what you want and deserve. You’re welcome.
|Crazy hair elf type kid|
I Googled all the holidays in December, so here’s a list:
- Ramadan (Muslim)
- Eid al-Fitr (Muslim)
- Saint Nicholas Day (Christian)
- Eid'ul-Adha (Muslim)
- Fiesta of Our Lady of Guadalupe (Mexican)
- St. Lucia Day (Swedish)
- Hanukkah (Jewish)
- Christmas Day (Christian)
- Three Kings Day/Epiphany (Christian)
- Boxing Day (Australian, Canadian, English, Irish)
- Kwanzaa (African American)
- Omisoka (Japanese)
|The guy who has to put up with me|
I have to say I’m actually all kinds of curious now about all these holidays. Boxing Day sounds fun and sort of violent, which I’m okay with. Fiesta of Our Lady of Guadalupe sounds like an awesome party with good eats. Maybe I’m generalizing but ever since I decided that Cinco De Mayo is about the best party ever because it involves mass quantities of delicious Mexican food, I have been all over anything that has a built-in excuse for tamales and margaritas. Epiphany Day sounds like a time when everyone should walk around with a giant light bulb over their head that periodically lights up every time they have an epiphany. That would be awesome. Anyway. Happy holidays in a very sweet, sincere, politically correct way to all my friends and their diversity. And please don’t yell at me if I accidentally throw you a Merry Christmas once in a while. It’s spoken with the best of intentions, I promise. Because if I say that to you I love you or at least like you a little, and wish the very best for you all the time, not just in December.
Julie Simmons-Wixom is most likely completely toaster-strudel nuts. You can email her or just leave a comment about her craziness. She likes it.