Telemarketers don't like him, but waiters sure do

I've noticed a trend for quite some time, and it was absolutely confirmed last night.  I'm just gonna put it out there - gay waiters love G. 

We don't eat out a ton, but when we do, and when our waiter happens to fall left-of-center, they just fawn over stuffy ole G.  As you know, G is as straight as they come.  There's nothing even slightly...askew with him.  No hair gel.  No mani/pedis.  No Bravo Channel.  No watching Glee.  No coffee with froth or flavor.  Heck, he's not even very nice.  Leave him with a ham sandwich and a WWII book, and he's fine.  Stuff him in a booth with a pink-haired, giddy waiter and it's a whole other story.

Last night was classic.

We went to a popular Italian restaurant and from the moment we sat down, our drinks were always filled, dirty dishes were scooped away immediately, recommendations flowed like wine, and the waiter fluttered around the table almost nonstop.  G was surly.  He was curt.  He made no eye contact.  None of this mattered.

When the waiter brought our food, he leaned in to G and said, "Sir?  Have you tried our sausage here before?  It's delicious!"

I raised my eyebrows at G and he goes, "Don't.  Just don't."

You can't make this stuff up.

At the end of the meal, I got up to go to the bathroom and I jokingly said, "Watch out!  You're gonna be alone for a few minutes!"  When I got back, there were two desserts on the table, courtesy of the waiter.  Not one to share; two full ones.  For free.  I was like, mmmm hmmm.  G said, "Just eat it and let's go.  Hurry up."  But alas, I couldn't shovel it in fast enough, and here came our ever-helpful servant to wish us a good night and a happy holiday.

This makes G incredibly uncomfortable, but it's causing me to think that we should frequent these places more often.  I could get some free drinks.  Maybe score a gift card.

Giving Gifts

During this joyous holiday season (ha!) some thoughts about gifts have been mulling around in my mind and I thought I'd share.  Especially since I already know that our faithful 2.5 readers think along these same lines anyway.  However, during a time that's so packed full of pressure, expectation and...capitalism, it's worth reflecting upon.

1.  Ain't Nothin Wrong With a Gift Card
I know some people think gift cards are shameless cop-outs, but I disagree.  This is all I'm sayin.  A gift card allows you to get whatever you want!  Depending upon the store, of course.  But it says, "Here.  This one's on me.  Go buy yourself something nice."  Who wouldn't like that?  This thought was recently reinforced by something my BFJ said.  I gave her a certain gift card and some certain ideas, and she said that sometimes it's nice to "have permission" to get yourself something.  You're not spending your own money; you're not spending money that perhaps should be saved and spent on the kids or the house or future education.  You're just redeeming a card.  I will never, ever turn down a gift card.

2.  It's a Gift, Not a Covenant
Here's what I think about the nature of giving a gift:  I find something that I think someone will truly enjoy, and I give it to them.  No strings attached.  If they throw it in the trash while my back is turned, so be it.  If they drive like a bat out of Hades to Goodwill as soon as I leave their house, and inflict the gift on random strangers, that's cool.  I'm not giving a gift as a subtle (or not so subtle) form of manipulation.  I give it because I hope the recipient will wear it or read it or watch it or listen to it or laugh at it or think about it or otherwise enjoy it.  Not because it gives me the upper hand and they now should feel indebted to me for something.  The key word is enjoy.  I don't get people what I enjoy; I get them what I believe they enjoy.  

3.  More Is Not Merrier
You know how certain people in your life (and we all have them) just don't get it?  Around these people, I never really drop hints about gifts because I don't want them to get me 47 of them.  I have a friend, who shall remain nameless, who likes nativities.  One Christmas, someone literally bought her dozens of different ones.  That's over the top, people.  See #2 above.  Unless it's money, freely given with no strings attached, more is not merrier.

4.  Don't Ask Me For a List
I know this is going to sound like the haughtiest, most prideful thing in the world, but I'm just gonna say it.  Don't ask me for a frikkin' list.  I'm not seven.  There are some very caring and well-intentioned people in my life (not friends) who ask me every year for a list and every year I tell them a list is pointless.  Know what I want?  A gift card!  See #1 above.  I think a list is presumptuous; it curtly says, "Here.  Buy me these things."  And it gives away what you're getting for Christmas because you're most likely getting what's on the list.  Duh.  If there was something we desperately needed, of course I would voice it.  I'm not trying to make things difficult.  It's just that I'm also not trying to come across like an entitled elementary school kid.  No offense - of course! - intended at all if you get or give lists.  Truly.  This has got to be some deep-seated personal issue of mine or something.

The Ultimate Gift is Already Ours
Mary's song in the book of Luke says that God "has filled the hungry with good things."  He is working in our lives and He is working for our good.  Even if it doesn't make sense.  Even if we are in pain, or deeply confused, or facing tough challenges.  The Son of Man, as Timothy Keller says, is the only person ever to die for someone (us).  You and I may choose how we're going to die; we may sacrificially give our life to save another.  But the hard truth is that we are going to die, somehow, at some point.  Jesus was (is) eternal.  Death was not on the table for Him until He freely chose it, on our behalf, to reconcile us to God forever.  And in Him are all good things.  The book of James says that all good things are from our Father in Heaven who does not change like shifting shadows.  Thank you, God.

5.  Life Is Not About Things Anyway
And we know this.  So if money is tight this year and gifts are out of the question, so what?  Or if things are good and you see something that, say, I might enjoy?  :)  :)  Well go for it!  Life isn't about anything tangible, other than us.  You, me, our friendship, our kids, our relationships and fun times together that God has blessed us with.  So, the pressure's off!

Merry Christmas!

Sleigh Ride? No thanks.

I rode in a cherry red Porsche 911 today.  It goes very, very fast. 

I then had to tell G all about it just to make him jealous.

Did I mention it goes fast?

And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

A Child is Born

The past few weeks have been insanely busy for us, so on Saturday we took a break from it all and visited our peeps in what we call "our country home."  We had a new nephew to meet:

There was also important business to take care of:

My friends and their children are spread out all over the country, so when I have the chance to hold their babies, I really take advantage.  The distance between us means that the next time I see the baby, he/she will be so different.  So I try to soak in the moment and enjoy the weight of a sleeping baby on me, because next time that same baby will be a wiggle worm.

This kid should rest up while he can.  He's got a lifetime of RC helicopters, planes, and nerdy games awaiting him, courtesy of his Uncle G.

And finally we got a smile shot!

TGIF, people!

Um, seriously???

Tis the Season for Embarassment

Every year when Christmas rolls around, I think of a time I humiliated myself in high school.  It was a couple of days before Christmas, and my mom & I were eating lunch across town in some Tex-Mex joint.  I was probably 16 or so, and I didn't know what Advent was.  I had never seen a calendar, or a nifty display of some doors opened, some closed, to demonstrate the anticipation of Christ's arrival, etc.

So as we were paying at the register, I glanced over and on the counter was a Latino-heavy version of the nativity, with most of the members surrounding the manger...except for baby Jesus.  Raising my eyebrows, I demanded of the senorita, "Um?  Where's your Jesus?  He's missing here...isn't he like the most important part?"  She smiled at me and said, "Yes, but he hasn't arrived yet.  He arrives on Christmas."  I was mortified.

And of course I remember that every year. 

In my Type A crunch to get things done during the week - and thereby attempt to free up the weekend - I shot to the grocery store after the gym last night.  I flew down the aisles, throwing things into the buggy (it's not a shopping cart; it's a buggy) and then tore to the shortest line I saw.  The guy in front of me only had a few items, so I proceeded to completely unload onto the conveyer belt.  As the cashier was about halfway through ringing me up, I noticed that I was in the 15-items-or-less express line.  The lady behind me, holding a bottle of wine and some crackers, looked at me pointedly.  I stood there, sweating in my gym clothes, and wanted to sink into the floor.

But that's not even the worst of it.

Last weekend I bought a cute black and white sweater.  It's the kind that hangs down to about my knees, and is pretty flattering.  I paired it with a cute pair of black pants, and some black & white heels, and trotted into the office this morning.  I'd been feeling so cute and put-together until our receptionist pointed out that the sweater is a lovely shade of navy blue.

I can't win for losing.

Jingle all the way

My work had its annual holiday party this weekend.  I typically don't like these things.  I spend 90% of my waking hours with these people, causing me to cherish the weekend like the rarest jewel, so when I have to see them again Saturday (and in this case, on Sunday morning, because most of us stayed at the resort) well...let's just say it's not my idea of a Merry Christmas.  Or the politically correct "Happy Holidays."

This year, however, was really fun.  It was a nice cocktail hour, followed by dinner and dancing, followed by more dancing.  With me - ME - dancing the night away!  Which was the result of one, perhaps two fun drinks like this:

Yes, this is real.  And, yes, we drained it.

I don't really remember why we're doing this.  It has something to do with Tim Tebow (I'm actually not a fan).

This was after several hours of dancing.  I'm not sure where our shoes are.

A good time was had by all, and I went home and slept from 1-6 on Sunday afternoon.  Nothing says "buzzkill" like having to get ready for another solid week at work.  With these people once again.

But there was good food and good company.  I can't complain!