Wednesday, November 23, 2011

I just saw it happen

I got up this morning to just go walk the dog and spend the day off doing whatever.

Like, I'd dick around in the yard raking shit or I'd prune something, look at the bees, ride bikes to get tacos with Bubba, whatever.

Not like it was a special day off, or a day that most other people would have off, and so I'd just go about my day off as though it was my own personal secret. Secret Finny Day Off! Let's go get drinks!

Or whatever.

I thought I was still safe from it. From the days off that aren't really days off because everyone else has them off, too, and so they're out there mucking up your own secret day off with their mutual day-offness.

Please do not act like you don't know what I'm talking about because I know that you do.

And really, while we're all *knowing* what I'm talking about - let's call this phenomenon of mutual day-offness what it really is - The Holiday Season.

Oh sweet mother, it is so ON. And I watched the switch get flipped.

Yep. Saw it happen.

I watched it go from "Oh, pretty. It's fall." to "OH SHIT. I HAVEN'T SHOPPED YET."

See, I was just freshly back from our bike to tacos, where I had just blasted through a pile of leaves on my bike with no regard for whether there was a cinder block hidden in the middle of it or more likely half a tree limb, and I was so pleased with Fall.

Oh, the neighbor's house looks so nice with the red leaves from the maple tree in front and oh it's kinda chilly I should maybe wear a jacket, and that kind of shit. All while just driving up to BevMo to get materials for tonight's Special Day Off Edition Cocktail Hour.

It was a rare peaceful moment in my world during which I didn't contemplate hitting anyone with my car.

Because I usually only get that way during a certain time of year and, hey, it's only fall, so there's no reason that people should be acting any differently than any other time of year but wait why is there a traffic jam in the BevMo parking lot IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S THE HOLIDAYS OR SOMETHING...


I just saw it happen.

I watched regular people, who are probably only marginally insane and poorly behaved most of the year, flip down the visor of their steel helmets and let fly the Holiday Battle Cry.



"YEAH! ARE YOU LEAVING? OK, GREAT! THANKS! I'LL JUST WAIT HERE while blocking traffic entirely because I'm in the middle of the lane because I don't want anyone from either direction swooping in and taking MY spot because BITCHES I got here first and this is holiday prison rules parking so just sit the fuck back there and wait!"

I mean, I could have denied it at this point. I could have chalked that scenario up to the reassuring concept of this being, perhaps, a drunk driver in the booze store parking lot who had stopped by briefly to refuel before tearing back out on to the streets of San Jose on a one woman killing spree.

I could have, but it would have proven fruitless because immediately after parking my car (in one of the many spaces that were only a few rows beyond the cherished front four spots), I witnessed a series of Only At The Holidays events that broke me of my comfy cozy It's Not The Holidays Yet denial.
  • I walked into BevMo (FINALLY.) to find a 20 foot tower of Jim Beam Holiday Collectible gift sets
  • I checked out at the grocery store next to a big stand of Special For The Holidays Ivory Label Lanson Champagne
  • Came home to find the first Christmas card of the season propping open my mailbox. (Leave it to the accountant.)
    • Along with 8 different catalogs with holiday themed covers
  • I have the neighborhood kids racing about on the streets at midday because school's out for the long weekend and let's all tie our hair together and ride one bicycle out of sheer relief of being away from the four walls of school!
  • My neighbors are balancing on rickety ladders in their driveways and they ain't cleaning their gutters
  • I went to look up a recipe for tomorrow's dinner (which I realize is Thanksgiving dinner, yes.) and it was in the Holiday section of my good old fashioned recipe binder

There's really no denying the facts at that point. It's the fucking holiday season and I totally just watched it happen.

This morning, things were all fine and dandy and then I went ahead and pushed the issue flaunting my day offness right in front of BevMo and BAM!

The holidays are here.

Nice going, ass.

Meanwhile, Happy Thanksgiving, people.


  1. Uh, Happy Thanksgiving to you too? I feel as though I shouldn't wish happiness upon you for a holiday, after all that. So let's just say I hope you have a nice day off, even if everyone else has it off too.

  2. I've gotten like 5 million sale emails too. I'm feeling a little "unholiday" so far.

  3. Friday now and I saw my first lights on my way home from work. And yes, catalogues from more and more places are arriving, and then 2nd copies just in case I didn't realize how wonderful they were the first time. And we live just over a mile from the pepper spray Walmart.
    You are a delightful spritz of cranky in the middle of this.

  4. Kris - A happy holiday, a great day off and NO SHOPPING. That is what I wish for all.

    Mom Taxi - The 5 million emails is a bit much, but the 5 million catalogs in my mailbox is blech. Happy holidays, people - stay safe.

    Jenny - Glad you appreciate the cranky as it appears I'm not the only one who doesn't go orgasmic over the idea of getting a waffle iron for $2.


[2013 update: You can't comment as an anonymous person anymore. Too many douchebags were leaving bullshit SPAM comments and my inbox was getting flooded, but if you're here to comment in a real way like a real person, go to it.]

Look at you commenting, that's fun.

So, here's the thing with commenting, unless you have an email address associated with your own profile, your comment will still post, but I won't have an email address with which to reply to you personally.

Sucks, right?

Anyway, to remedy this, I usually come back to my posts and post replies in the comment field with you.

But, if you ever want to email me directly to talk about pumpkins or shoes or what it's like to spend a good part of your day Swiffering - shoot me an email to finnyknitsATgmailDOTcom.