me’s blog

I just wanted to wish both of my faithful readers the happiest of holidays, whichever one(s) you choose to celebrate.  I’ve had an almost cheesily perfect Christmas day, jam-packed full of love, family, and friends - thank God for text messaging! 

Some of the day’s entertaining moments came from the adorable antics of "Little Miss Sunshine", as well as a quickly downloaded Christmas cd by the late James Brown, who soulfully serenaded us from the beyond as we began our day.

And of course, as per usual at the Bailer house, there was also a ton of delicious food.  Omaha steaks, Caesar salad, escargot, baked potato, green beans, etc.  Thankfully I, unlike my little big sister Amy, am not currently on a diet and therefore was able to enjoy every last bite of it.  YAY!

All of that said, I must give props where props are due to my carb-countin’ sis for providing the holiday highlight in the form of a HUGE Christmas Eve laugh.

Our parents had made it clear that they really wanted us to join them at church for mass on Christmas morning.  Even though Amy and I aren’t so Catholically inclined these days (my sobriety has provided me with a much more functional personal spirituality), we’re basically willing to do anything that makes Mom happy.  While discussing with our parents whether or not Amy and I were "in a state of grace" and therefore eligible to receive Communion, I made some crack about how I’d better not eat too much breakfast beforehand, otherwise I may not have room for the body of Christ.

My sister, God bless her, without missing a beat, said:

"Hey can we get carb-free hosts?"

The Bailer family immediately erupted into beautifully typical fits of uncontrollable laughter, through which I landed my reply:

"Only if I can get alcohol-free wine!"

Yeah yeah yeah, sure we may be going to hell for such blasphemy, but at least we’ll be laughing our asses off all the way there.

****

So here’s wishing you a truly joyous holiday season full of love and laughter.  And try to squeeze in a smidge of blasphemy.  It may not be good for the soul, but it’s great for a laugh. 

And that’s good for the soul.

Tonight I experienced a little "Sex & The City" deja-vu.

I called in to place a Chinese food delivery order, which I do approximately once a month.  For someone like me who doesn’t cook anything more advanced than pasta or oatmeal, Chinese food leftovers are a rather economical way to eat for about a week.  Not to mention the yummy factor.

So I gave my phone number to the woman on the other end of the line and she verified my address.  Then I placed the order.  Shrimp Fried Rice, Kung Pao Beef, and four eggrolls.

Her response, after a titteringly condescending giggle:  "The usual!"

BITCH!

A couple weeks ago I was talking with some friends and we were deciding which of the "Sex & The City" gals we each felt we identified with.  I said I considered myself a Carrie.  Not only do she and I share a tendency to dress rather individualistically on occasion.  I too love living in The City, though anyone who knows me knows that I’d love it so much more if I lived in Her City.  I too am frequently the one to make jokes when necessary - and yes, often when not - to lighten the mood amongst friends.  And, though I’ve been extremely remiss lately (sincerest apologies to both of my faithful readers out there), I too like to sit Doogie-style (ha!) in front of my computer and write with public introspection about the nature of things.  Things like what just happened to me mere moments ago.  And so tonight I sit here asking myself that age-old question: 

"Is it possible that the woman at the Chinese restaurant knows me better than I know myself?"

Just kidding.  Obviously she does not.  Nor does she have a refined sense of humor.  If she did, she’d know that this little joke of hers was not as original or clever as she seemed to think.  Do they have tv’s in China?

But, alas, tonight it does seem that I am in fact a Miranda.  Sitting here, at home, alone, ordering the same Chinese food from the same Chinese restaurant that I’ve ordered it from the past umpteen times.  The ever-reliable running joke at City Lights Of China.  Despite the numerous eerie similarities, I’m trying not to read too much into this (e.g., I’m uptight, I have no life, I should dye my hair bright red).

As this newly branded Miranda reflectively prepares to bite into eggroll number two, let’s pull one last trick as Carrie and find the ironic silver lining in all of this: 

Miranda’s boyfriend was a WAY cuter than Big.