The Hater and I have a lot of stuff simmering right now...
This weekend we've been invited to a Dirty Santa party. Not the dirty kind of party where everybody brings gag gifts and then you swap them. This is more like people dress up like a dirty santa, not to be confused with Bad Santa (which was a funny movie, see picture to right). No, this is a dirty Santa party and we've had a lot of grief and worry to pick out the right outfits. In years past we're told that people wear skimpy negligees, but we're not ready to make that step. But, lo, this weekend we came upon the *perfect* things to wear to the party.
The Hater will be wearing this while I wear this. Come on, by now you know us better than that. No, really, The Hater will grace the runway with a shirt that says "I'll be your dirty Santa", these, and this. I'll be sporting these, this (except mine are black with red hearts), and this.
Our other simmering issue is what to take to party. We had thought about making jell-o shots, but have decided that the logistics of transporting them might not work in our favor. So now we're trying to decide if we're going to take liquor or juice or both and coke. Or whatever. Maybe wine. We've spent this much time trying to decide what to wear that we've not really spent any time worrying about what we're going to bring.
Meanwhile, The Hater's about to be out of school for finals and Christmas break. It's so hard for me to get up and go to work when I know he's at home having fun. I know that's ugly, but it's uber true.
Then! We've still not packed for the trip home. We have finished wrapping, but The Hater (aka, Killjoy; aka, Analogy Scrooge) has started wondering how we're going to fit all of the gifts in the car with our regular travel stuff, luggage, etc. I'm just glad we didn't have to buy things that had to be shipped this year. I asked him if he wanted to take stuff back to the stores; he said he'd figure out a way to make them fit in the car. I don't think it's going to be an issue.
You might think that we're ahead of the holiday game by having our cards out and most of our shopping done. The crux is that we've not finished our gift-purchasing for each other.
Just in case The Hater needs a hint, to the left you'll see a rare diamond that's currently on display in London; it's called the De Beers Millennium Star. If The Hater was smart, he'd catch The Vol before she came home and sweet-talk her into being the gopher between the rock and me. It's relatively a flawless plan.
I've always liked rocks.