Little Jew’s First Christmas: A Poem.

NYC Christmas tree at Rockefeller.

Woke up that morning,
On a wing and a dream.
Just another Tuesday,
Or so it might seem.

But this year, instead
Of movies and Chinese,
A new world opens up, with
New traditions, and cheese.

The day dawned quite clear,
The air was yet chilled,
The wind was a-blowin’, and
Her senses were thrilled.

And as they walked in,
Carrying presents and pie,
A great tree full of shiny
Caught her Little Jew eye.

And as she looked up
And saw them hung with care,
The ornaments twinkled,
Then her nose sniffed the air!

There was great food galore,
Broccoli, pasta, dessert!
So much to nom, so delicious
It made their tummies hurt.

Presents abound!
Wrapping paper was flung!
They ripped off the stockings
From whence they were hung!

Tinsel and ribbons and bows,
Everywhere!
Garlands and gift-cards and toys,
So much flair!

The nephew was bouncing,
Niece flying on a sugar high,
From cake and cookies and sprinkles
For no nap would she lie.

Little Jew, her eyes
Wide with wonder,
Said ‘Merry Christmas!!’
To all and asunder.

And after curling up
On the couch with hot cocoa,
And watching the Grinch, and
Learning the Christmas lingo,

They eventually left,
Little Jew and her guy,
Rolling off down the street, with a
Fresh Christmas twinkle in her eye.

And so it would be,
Little Jew's First Christmas.
And it turned out quite sparkly,
Though she was still stuffed up with sickness [and food].

Curled up that night,
Like a Jewy burrito,
After setting her shiny gift
With care on her bureau,

She thought to herself,
‘What a day I have had!’
And Little Jew learned
That Christmas wasn’t so bad!

It felt kinda like this.

There is a Thin Line Between Funny and Terrible.

I don't care WHAT you get/are getting for Hanukkah, Christmas, or Kwanzaa or Festivus. Your holiday is lame and so are your siblings. Now, I am not just randomly calling your brothers lame for no reason.

MY SISTER GOT ME A SET OF 4 STAINLESS STEEL SPORKS. Your argument is invalid.

Look at it. IT IS MAGNIFICENT.

Non-sequitor:
I have noticed that sometimes people are unsure whether to laugh at me or with me. I have chosen to take that as a comment on my genius. I am so hilarious and highbrow that sometimes people don’t get it. PHILISTINES!

However, I realize it is a very thin, teeeeny little line boundary between hilarious and groan-worthy. Having said that, I adore puns. To me, they are the best of groan-inducing hilarity that life has to offer. One of my absolute favorites is “I mustache you a question. But I’ll shave it for later!” and of course, the ever-awesome animal puns, which luckily for you, I posted below, but further below than the mustachioed dude.

Speaking of mustaches.

If that’s wrong, then I don’t want to be right. Not in any other sense, though. Just ask Boyfriend or my brothers. I am ALWAYS RIGHT! Actually, I take that back. Don’t ask any of them, just ask me. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.

Now, I have to admit, I have been known to step a toe over, straddle, perhaps even high jump over the line before. Not that I care. If I think I'm funny, any dissenters can go suck an egg. :)

And now, in lieu of being hysterically funny for all of you all by my lonesome, I have decided to treat you all to some wonderful puns! Now, I totally get that some of these may make you groan. Some are longer, some are shorter. Just take a deep breath and prepare to be amused. And there is a surprise at the bottom! Click on them to enlarge any of the pictures.

If you don’t find this amusing, you are dead to me. Ahh! I don't know why so blurry!

This will eventually get old. BUT NOT YET.

90s flashback pun!

Sad that the other guy is so mad at the Punny McPun! I liked it. :)

 And now, to end with something that isn’t a pun AT ALL. It is a supercute picture of Cookie Monster, who happens to top my list of all-time favorite monsters who love cookies. Followed at a close second by the Yeti. Partially because Yetis are rad and love cookies, and partially because “yeti” plays in Scrabble.

Omfg, too cute. This is so cute it make me angry. That's how adorable it is.

I showed the above picture to Boyfriend, explaining that it was so cute that it made me want to shark-punch a baby. He responded by letting me know that the proper rules of etiquette dictate that punching babies is not acceptable in society, as of yet. WELL THEN. 

Either way, my other friend was not clear on what shark-punching was. She hazarded a 3 part guess:
1) You punch someone in the neck like you'd try to punch an attacking shark's gills.
or
2) You make your hand look as shark-like as possible while you're going in for the punch.
or
3) You make a fake fin over your head with one hand while you punch the crap outta someone.

While 2 and 3 both intrigue me, and of course they are all correct, I had to try out my shark-punchin' face and grade it on it's intensity and the ability to strike fear into people's hearts. Here it is, in all of it's glory.

This is my shark-fin-headpiece, and my "I am about the moderately assault your person in the chestal (or facial) region with my metacarpals in the form of...SHARK!"

How To: Be An Awesome Girlfriend

Boyfriend bought a new pair of pants last week. And no joke, there was a tag on them that said “Comfort-Stretch Waistband: Because guys need their space.” We both thought this was hilarious. But it got me thinking about guys and girls and their needs and wants and stuff.

So, in this installment of intermittent how to articles that clearly make your life inconceivably better, I present to you:

How To: Be An Awesome Girlfriend.

I want to preface this by saying that there is more than one way to be irresistibly awesome to your hunky other half, and also warn you that sometimes, no matter how great you are, the other half of your relationship may not appreciate it, or deserve it. And like Old Kenny Rogers always says, in his wrinkly old-man voice, ‘You gotta know when to fold ‘em.’ Don’t give away all your lovin’ to someone who doesn’t respect and appreciate all of what your awesomeness has to offer.

Ok, PSA over. On to the fun stuff!

1. It’s true, guys need their space. AND SO DO CHICKS. I need my space sometimes and just want to hang out with the coolest person I know: ME. You can’t be together 24/7, because for one thing, you (hopefully) have different interests and can maintain those both with and without each other. Perfect example: Boyfriend plays video games. I literally could not have any less interest in sitting at a computer for hours playing the same thing. *shudder* However, I can curl up for hours reading a good book. BAM. Problem Solved. We do our own things, yet are at least slightly aware that the other person is in the room. Quality time, kids.

2. Make sure you have a super comfy couch. Boyfriends love comfy couches.

3. I suppose this one is more of a tip, than an actual step to being awesome. Either way, here it is. At some point after the beginning of a new relationship, when you’re still trying to look cute all the time, and wear sexy clothes and not pick your nose in front of each other, that stuff starts to fall by the wayside a bit. At this point, I am living with my boyfriend, and I cannot imagine an environment less conducive to trying to be perfect. He knows I work out in raggedy, old, holey, terrible clothes, he has seen me when I am sick (and you know how crappy you look with the flu!), he has seen me spit when I tasted something really gross, and he has taken note of some of my idiosyncrasies. I was WAY better able to hide the weird/not-cute stuff before!

But the point is that, it’s ok. I would rather him know the real me, and like it, than the always-plucked, cute-shoe-wearing, super polite version. Not that I’m not polite now, still! I just have my snarky, snotty, bitchy moments, too. And he has to bear witness to all of them.

4. In the same vein as number 3, get used to his grossness. When you first start dating, you’re both on your best behavior. By the year mark, he has gotten past that and moved on to the farting-in-front-of-you stage, which is closely followed by the farting-in-your-direction-and-laughing-hysterically phase. That last phase isn’t as fun as it sounds. Try not to eat too much Chinese food with him, it makes it worse. 

5. Laugh at him, laugh at yourself, laugh at life. I cannot stress this enough. You are not meant to be a comedian or anything, but damn it, laugh together. And laugh at each other! I make a lot of silly faces.

6. Be a macaroni and cheese connoisseur. Boyfriend loves my mac n’ cheese, and so do I. We do cook together, it’s something we enjoy, but when it comes to mac n’ cheese, it’s my kitchen and the cheese will do as I command. OBEY ME, CHEESE MINIONS!

Like these, but made of cheese and who love cheese more than anything else in the world, except obeying me!

7. Don’t bother investing in expensive lingerie. If your dude is anything like my dude, he won’t notice anyway. Besides, why waste tons of money on fancy underpants when naked is FREE? Hello, my Jewyness may be popping out here, but come on, I am so not spending $300 on some fancypants teddy thingy when I know he doesn’t care one way or the other. He might be like “You look hot” for half a second, but then it’s done, it’s purpose has been served, and I would’ve gotten the same result in my towel after a shower. Trust me on this one. If he wants the lingerie that badly, he can buy it himself. :)

8. Appreciate his facial hairs. Boyfriends love their goatee/soul patch/mustache/muttonchops. Appreciate it. Stroke his crazy face hair. Name it, talk to it, become it’s friend. And if the guy ever shaves it off, accuse him of killing your friend and pout about it. Make a sad face and puppy dog eyes.

9. Boyfriends can’t resist the puppy dog eyes, but they hate themselves a little bit for falling for them every time. Use the puppy dog eyes sparingly and only for important stuff. Tip: Used too often, they lose their power.

NOPE. POWER HAS MULTIPLIED, NOT DIMINISHED.

10. Never tell the men of your magical girlfriend powers!

11. Get into stuff together. It doesn’t have to be some big official thing, like joining a softball team together, or taking ballroom dance (good luck convincing him of that one, anyway!). Just get into stuff together. I have always loved card games, and Boyfriend does, too, so we have learned some new games that we can play together and with our friends.

12. Make fun of him mercilessly. How else will he know you care?!

13. Nagging is inevitable. I always swore I wouldn’t be a naggy girlfriend. I frickin’ lied. I didn’t know I was lying when I said it, but I was a Liar McPantsOnFireson. (Also, in reference to the liar liar idiom, I’d like to throw the following phrase into the ring, to be voted on to replace the traditional one: “You sir, are rewriting history in such a way that your pantaloons are aflame.”)

Back to the nagging. You never mean to, and you will tell yourself that you won’t do it, but you are lying directly to your own FACE. It starts small, reminding him of important things, and dates and stuff. It grows. Sometimes I remind him of stuff a little too hard. Possibly too often. I like to assume that he doesn’t notice that nagging, what with his selective man-hearing and all.Try to not be super-naggy!

14. Hair. Boyfriends like hair. But they like it more when it’s attached to your head and less when it’s clogging the drain. And be warned! They will blame the drain-clog hair on you, even with it’s theirs!! They will, I’ve seen them do it.

And now, a tip for the men:

Okay, so a lot of guys think they know what women want. Some think it is the stereotypical romantic comedy sensitive guy, some guys think women just want someone to take care of them, and others think we just want an unlimited amount of shoes (these specific guys are not TOTALLY wrong about the shoes). Still others, aka ‘idiots’ think all women want is swag and saggy pants. You know what isn’t attractive? Your pasty butt moderately covered in Ninja Turtles boxers, in 13 degree weather. Although, to be fair, it’s even worse when it is really hot outside and your pair your hero in a half-shell undies with a wifebeater tank top. 

ATTRACTIVE. Especially the part where they tuck their shirts into their underwear. The better to view the boxers, I guess!

So now, men and women can come together, free of artifice and secrets, and be wonderful. Men, you should be thanking me for letting the womenfolk know what you like, and women, you should be thanking me for telling the guys how we really feel about saggy pants.

And so...YOU’RE WELCOME, WORLD.

Do You See What I See?

When I see other people typing, they look so smooth and fast. When I look down at my typing, I feel like it looks like Wack-A-Mole. I remember when I was young, I used to watch my mom type really fast without looking at the keyboard, and I was very impressed with this skill.

And even though I now have that skill myself, it doesn’t seem the same at all! Even though I type really fast, too. It’s like that phenomenon of hearing yourself.

I hear myself all the time. I talk a lot! So, why is it that when I hear a recording of my voice, I am always shocked at how I sound. “Is that ME?” I say, incredulous, “Do I really sound like THAT?” Why is it so shocking? If I sounded out loud like I do in my head, I would be one smooth line away from being a radio-DJ or maybe a voiceover actor, but only narrating life, like JD in Scrubs, or Kevin on The Wonder Years.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who wasn’t at least mildly surprised when they hear themselves on a recording. It’s so weird. You “hear” yourself as one way, all the time, and then when you hear it, not in your own head, but in a recording of something, it’s always like “What? Who IS that, singing my song/reading my poem on that thing?” Also--when you’re wearing earplugs, and you talk, you sound weird in your head then, too.

On the other hand, I look like this.

That's my new Beardo! I got it online. It's a warm knitted winter beanie (that is about 17 times larger than my head could possibly ever need, even if I were to sustain a head injury that blew my head up to three times its normal size. Then I'd STILL be able to wear this hat with the inflammation, and also have room for one of my friends to join me in it.) with a detachable knitted beard and mustache! Winter, come at me, bro.

When I mentioned my thoughts on how I think I look weird when I type, my friend Megan said to me, “You should try typing like an old person. With only two fingers, poking at the keys like you're nervous something will bite you.” Officially the best-ever way to describe old people on computers.

But it brings up an interesting, yet mortifying thought. What does everyone else see when they see you? You look at yourself in the mirror every day, you see your face and body, but do we see ourselves the way everyone else does? This certainly isn’t something I bother to obsess over. Let’s face it, there are so many other things that I could obsess over, like why my oreos don’t seem to be uniform. Why is it that the stuffing isn’t the same in every single one? They are machine-made, so how is it possible that some have more delicious stuffing than others? I demand equality in my snack cookies! There should be no caste system, no race wars, in the cookie world. I will stand, and I will fight for cookie equality! Someone give me a sign to hold up passionately.

Standing right on the corner of Hmph Avenue and Pfft Lane, I realize that some of the things I may obsess over a tiny itsy bit about are a tad irrelevant. Why does it bother me when people leave 7 seconds left on the microwave? Why am I so annoyed when I buy a bag of air, only to realize there are 5 potato chips at the bottom of the bag? You don’t know me! I may need that bag of air for something really important, like popping it and freaking my boyfriend out when I am stealthing up behind him, and then you choose to force me to give him a potato-confetti shower with my stealth bag-popping? Is that what I ordered? Also annoying are people who use hashtags on Facebook. Again, I’m not sure why this bothers me, but I am crystal clear on the fact that it does. Especially those people who post one picture of fall leaves, but have 27 hashtagged words. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but if every one of those words are hastagged, then I don’t care what your picture has to say.

So, I am anticipating 2 more packages in the mail today. Boyfriend’s birthday is a week before Christmas. And everyone knows that you can’t give one gift for both, unless it is so amazetastically awesome that it can conceivably make that person excited enough to accept one gift for two of the only gimme-gimme-gift-giving holidays in the whole year. No one is handing out gifts on Columbus Day or Arbor Day. You only get your Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa, and your annual celebration of the anniversary of the day you were ripped out of your warm cozy womb and into the cold, cruel world with a slap and a bath.

This baby is not pleased with the recent turn of events.

The point is, I am in happily waiting in anticipation of the last of the packages I ordered from online, only to be frustrated that it is late afternoon and they haven’t arrived. THANKS FOR GETTING MY HOPES UP, UPS.COM. YOU ARE RUINING MY LIFE! I hope you’re satisfied.

I’m going to go ahead and put this out there, though: I am a good gift-giver. I love getting people something I know they’ll love. I am also a smart gifter: I am keeping both his birthday AND Christmas gifts at work and not at home, so that he can’t sneak a peek.

In other news, I already know what he got me for Hanukkah and I WANT IT RIGHT NOW. But, alas, I am not allowed to have it until actual Hanukkah. MEGA-POUT. It’s super great and I do so love shiny objects.

I started this post with typing and hearing weirdness and somehow ended up going on about gifts. Well...that sounds about right.

I guess I could start chatting about something else entirely. Hmm... how about this: Passive aggressive people make me aggressive. But in a more active way.

I mean, I find passive aggressive notes funny, when I read them online. And I do read them. You just can’t help it, they are funny! But in real life, I am not the passive aggressive sort. I am not going to hmph around and sigh at the sink full of dishes, I’ll either wash them myself, or ask the person whose turn it is. I am not going to post irrelevant and annoying sticky notes all over the place with things I don’t like. I will straight up say it to your face. I don’t really understand that passive aggressive approach. Things tend to work out faster and with better results when you just talk to someone face to face! So, why resort to snotty notes to get something done? Does anyone else see snotty notes and immediately have the urge to do the opposite?

In more exciting news--look at my new ZOMBIE KEY COVERS! (If you, too, need some adorable little brain-eating cuteness on your keys, they're only $6!--go here!)

My keys are going to be the most feared keys on the whole block. Braaaaaaains!!