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.
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