Santa Claus

I was just perusing my posts, reading the comments posted by you funny, fantastic readers, and somehow, as a result, I ended up on my blogger-friend Matt’s page about Christmas.  That thing CRACKED ME UP. 

Matt was a little pissed off at Santa, whom he said “hadn’t come through for him in a long f-ing time.” I paraphrased that just a tad.  His complaint? That “Santa’s fat ass had been getting lazy and given him nothing but gift certificates” over the last couple of years.  This made it perfectly acceptable for Matt to buy himself a gift on a recent visit to Sports Authority – even though he was there to buy gifts for his family.

SO Funny!  Welcome to Christmas in single adult world.  HA!  Oh sure, there are the gifts we exchange with friends, family and such, but it’s not at all like it was when we were kids, and mom and dad asked what we wanted.  Usually they asked with the actual intent of getting us at least one item on our list.  It started out when we were really young and could barely write, and mom would remind us to write our letter to Santa so he’d be sure to know what we wanted.  The disillusionment started then.  Santa just never seemed to get it right.  Then when I learned the truth about Santa – that he is just the guy to take pictures with at the mall, I realized my mom and dad were the culprits at never getting it right. There were multiple let-downs, because mom or dad thought they were satisfying me with a Barbie “look-alike” or some kind of nonsense like that.  I got pretty good at crafting my “Christmas list” as I grew up.  I got to where I was providing the manufacturer’s name, and store location where they could pick one up.  Little did I know that my determination to get what I wanted would be the driving force in developing some keen management skills in me as well.  HA!

By the way, who said Christmas is not about the gifts?  Well, whoever did clearly did NOT know what it was like at our house.  Listen, we were taught the true story of Christmas – how it was because of the birth of Christ and that it was suppose to be about giving rather than getting.  My mom and dad made sure of that.  And believe me – all that giving they did to me and my siblings rubbed off.  Just ask anyone that I care about around any sort of gift-giving time. 

But just imagine a home with a minimum of eight or nine kids (I am one of eleven kids, from the same set of parents).  My younger brother Johnny and I are the “babies,” and we were pretty spoiled around Christmas time.  Although, I am absolutely certain every single one of my siblings felt the same.  It’s because my mom had this fantastic way of making everything look so ultra festive and our living room – where the tree was always housed (apart from one trial year, where some artsy-fartsy sibling convinced mom to move it to the den for a “change” which really sucked, because of the hard marble floors), was like a department store – the Christmas tree was INCREDIBLE.  Our living room became un-walkable because of the PILES of gifts under and surrounding the tree. I remember Johnny and I sneaking out after midnight one year.  We even sat in the hall and waited for our mom and dad to finish their Christmas business, before we snuck out and counted our presents.  It was a good year.  We must have been around 5 and 7 or so, and we each had over 100 gifts!  This of course included every single thing, including the 24 Crayola Crayons wrapped alone, and the six little coloring books that were also wrapped individually.  My mom knew.  Perception was KING.  She wanted us to wake up in the morning, and see our eyes pop out of our heads at the fantastic sight.  And we did.  We knew not to let her down.

Anyhow, since then, growing up, going through marraige, divorce and raising my own kids, I’ve learned that the only way I am going to get exactly what I want is to buy it myself (okay – that’s not always the case – sometimes if I focus REAL hard, someone else gets me just what I want! HA!).  So, I’m sorry Santa, but I’m taking your job – at least in my own personal world.  Sorry.  I’ve just proven to be indispensable to myself, and well, let’s face it. You’ve been slacking on the job lately!

On another note, this year I took my older son to New York city for Thanksgiving.  It was his Christmas gift.  Next year, I’ll be smart.  He has a birthday in early January.  Next year, I’ll let him know it’s a COMBINATION Christmas and Birthday gift, if we are lucky enough to do something so extravagant again.  I just had NO idea how much money I would spend showing my son a good time in the Big Apple.  It was a small fortune.  Let’s just say his car cost me about the same.  It’s not an expensive car, as cars go, but hey – it’s an Infinity, and it ain’t half bad. 

On one of my days while in the city for some important PR appointments, I found myself on 5th Avenue.  Need I say more?  Probably not.  I could probably end this post right here and now, and you’d know what happened.  That’s because you are so very smart.  But, hey, I will give you the details nonetheless.

You see, there is this clothing designer called Free People.  I discovered them for myself this past summer, while “just browsing” at Bloomingdales.  That little browse cost a pretty penny too, but I LOVE those clothes.  One thing I learned, after my 5th Avenue experience is that buying these things at department stores is the way to go.  They are the only ones who mark things down as much as like 60%. 

So, I’m walking down 5th Avenue, minding my own business.  I had just finished my last appointment at Forbes Magazine, when I realized what a PRETTY street 5th Avenue is!  At least where I was between 14th and 15th streets.  It called to me.  The beautiful shops with their wood framed windows and majestic entrances.  I was doomed.  I simply HAD to explore – if only for the sheer architectural beauty!  As I meandered down the block, I was JUST about to hail a cab, thinking my browsing was over, when I saw the FREE PEOPLE store.  These people know how to make clothes, and they know how to LURE people like me into their store. 

I went in. 

I tried on.

Everything looked AMAZING.  I am NOT kidding.

Will someone please tell me?  Just WHEN does a female EVER try clothes on and say that everything looks AMAZING? Most women NEVER utter the word “amazing” in reference to ANYTHING about their body!

Never.

I even tried on these spandex leggings with gold zippers at the ankles.  They rocked – just before falling into my basket.

Many many dollars later, I was walking down 5th Avenue with my new Christmas gift to myself!

Done. 

The only people left to shop for were my younger son Graden, and a few good loves.  Now that I was out of the way, I could get some stuff done.

So Matt, I TOTALLY get it.  I bet after you bought yourself that workout bench, you were able to focus on everyone else!  Am I right?

Have an INCREDIBLE, LOVELY weekend everyone.  Don’t let the Grinches out there rob you of your sheer and utter JOY.  Just smile at everyone and tell them to have a beautiful, wonderful day.  And have some eggnog if that doesn’t work! Some good – strong – eggnog.

Love you people!  Mmmmmphhhhuuuuhhhhh!!!!

xoxo,

Ms. Cheevious

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Blog content copyright 2008, LISA JEY DAVIS a.k.a. Ms. Cheevious