Existential Ennui

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Existential Ennui

Daily Archives: December 20, 2012

So Are Ya Jollied UP Yet?

20 Thursday Dec 2012

Posted by Sherry in An Island in the Storm, Essays, Humor, Life in New Mexico, Life in the Foothills, LifeStyle, New Mexico, The Contrarian

≈ 6 Comments

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Contrarian, holidays, Humor, life in the foothills, lifestyle

christmas-lights3_1So how’s it goin’ out there?

I mean, are ya all Christmasy yet?

Depending on your gender, you’re either yawning about now, or twisting your hair into frizzles as you gnaw at the pencil bemoaning the long list that still greets you.

Yes I said gender.

Everyone knows that MOST (remember I did say most, which I am constrained to say, since the Contrarian ALWAYS makes note of when I say ALWAYS because he suggests that it’s an unfair assessment of anyone and everyone should everyone be more to the point than anyone. Got that? Didn’t think so, so move on). Okay, again.

Everyone knows that MOST men have little to do with any festive occasion, be it Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years or Easter, the “Big Four” as I call ’em. Oh they have their little chores, but they pale in comparison to what WOMEN are called upon to do. Mostly men fetch and carry and SHOW UP reasonably on time and not looking like they just stepped out of a scene from AX MEN.

On the other hand, MOST women are the food preparers and decorators, the house cleaners,  the buyers of gifts, the wrappers, the planners, the strategic organizers. They are BUSY while the men are ZONING in front of the big screen, beer in hand and remote clutched firmly lest anyone interfere with the switching back and forth from da Bears to The Patriots game, simulcast in quadruple screen brilliant blood and gore. If you speak to them they grunt. Yes, as in “huhhhhh?” Then of course they still don’t LISTEN to a word you are saying.

I know that WOMEN do all the real work when it comes to holidays, because yesterday on Facebook, WOMEN were the one’s who were sending out seasonal greetings to all their FB friends. It was only Wednesday but WOMEN know they are about to start that run to the goal line–which is getting the damn food on the table on Christmas day. Then they can almost collapse into a puddle of goo, that is after the freakin’ food is put away and the dishes all cleaned up, which is just about the time when the masculine types will bellow out that a “snack” would be nice about now.

And of course tomorrow, the MALES will burp and fart their way to a late morning wake up, while the WOMEN are busy cleaning up all the trash from the day before and making the house somewhat presentable again for the “you know they will come” various lost relatives who come to remind you that their lives are way more interesting and fulfilling than yours, and gee, you STILL have this sofa? I remember that burn hole from when we were in high school, chit-chat.

So if they haven’t already, WOMEN are busy turning out a production line of cookies in various shapes and sizes and flavors, all to prove that they learned a thing or two from their Easy Bake Ovens. And they are wondering if card boughs draped around the front door are dated. And they are wondering if they got the right size for Uncle John’s slippers. And did they remember scotch tape? And gift cards? Are there holiday napkins? Oh lord the china needs washing. The cat is climbing through the tree again, and the dog is stealing ornaments and hiding them in his bed.

The kids are insane and need to be simply locked in their rooms until the big day. Oh and Bobby needs a hair cut, and Brenda broke her glasses again.

A WOMAN slips back and forth from one reality to another–the Christmas holiday she would love to have, and the one that is doomed to be.

A MAN, drinks his beer, flips the stations, naps, snores, and takes out the trash and feels self-satisfied with his “helping out.”

A MAN goes to the mall late at night, bemoans his limitations to the prettiest clerk he can find, and lets her figure out what he should buy. Then he buys it, and moans once more about the “wrapping thing” and he is directed to another pretty little thing who laughs at his macho jokes and dutifully wraps his gift, which he has already forgotten the contents of. He will place that baby under the tree and beam with “ain’t I greatness” when she opens it and oohs and ahhs, and sighs inwardly, wondering how many times she will have to wear “it” before she can safely stow “it” in the back of the drawer and put on the nice warm jammies she really wanted  to wear during the long cold winter.

Both MEN and WOMEN will sigh contentedly at the end of the holiday, figuring they have done another good job.

So, yeah, I know. Most of you are men. The Women are of course, already getting started with the chaos for the last 5 days.

Merry Christmas

elfonashelf

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