holiday pet peeves: edition 1

If you’ve been reading this blog for more than fifteen minutes you’re probably aware that I have some issues.  I don’t like large birds, I’m a bit of a conspiracy theorist, and I feel the need to buy every maryjane shoe I see.  I also have a lot of pet peeves.  For some reason things get to me that (I assume) most people would casually dismiss or would never enter their minds.  That’s what makes me special. 

So, I thought for the holiday season I would give you a glimpse into my world.  Yesterday Megan and I went to our local Michael’s Arts & Crafts store (among other various places) and as always I had my Flip camera handy, you know, just in case I need to break into video journalist mode.  Everything was going fine until I hit the aisle I despise.  I had to get the Flip out.  BTW, Anderson Cooper, you may consider this my official audition for AC 360.  I’m available, but you should know I’m not using my normal speaking voice, this would be my voice of outrage in an southern accent that comes out when I’m particularly peeved.  Also, ignore Megan’s giggling in the background, she obviously does not take my future career in broadcast journalism seriously.

Really, I’ve never liked those Christmas villages.  I’m sorry if any of my readers have them, it’s nothing against you, really — it’s just weird to me.  It’s all very Norman Rockwell, which is fine if you’re in Mayberry, but even Mayberry had Otis the town drunk.  Otis was great.  Gave the town character.  And don’t tell me it’s an “idealized” village ’cause that’s stupid.  My idea of an ideal village would be a town with lots of superfantastic shopping, good restaurants, really great customer service, free valet parking, and would require its citizens to work a maximum of 3 days a week.  And it would have a beach on one side of town and a snowy place on the other and the whole town would have great music and lighting and disco balls!  I’d call it Kerryberry, kinda like Mayberry, but with flava. 

Back to the Christmas village.  What was with the decappitated villagers?  You might as well have a little Tipi Hedron in there with birds attacking her.  Freaky.  I think you can hear the shock over the decappitated people in my weird voice.  I’m not sure why when I’m aggravated I have this drawn out voice, but whoop there it is.  My natural speaking voice is probably more tollerable, I’m not sure, I don’t listen to myself talk and most of the time my brain is going much faster than I can speak anyway, so who knows what I’m saying.  I’m sure my friends can attest to this.  Back to the villages, specifically the villagers.  Now you’re going to notice it aren’t you?  Now that I’ve exposed the Christmas villages for the little tiny towns of prejudice they are. 

I don’t know who makes those villages, but come on.  No blacks?  No other ethnicities?  That’s just wrong.  Christmas is an equal opportunity holiday.  Jesus is for everyone.  There weren’t any handicapped ramps on any of the village buildings either.  This is an outrage.  There is no room for discrimination of any kind in Christmas!  Well, not where race or ability or sexual orientation are concerned, anyway.  I’m all for other forms of discrimination.   That’s what our nation was founded on, the freedom to discriminate .  I discriminate against bad wrapping paper.  I also discriminate against cheap purses and all kinds of other stuff no one else cares about.  Like personalized license plates that aren’t easily deciphered.  That makes me special, too.  I didn’t say what kind of special, I’m pretending it’s a good kind of special. 

I’m coming out with my own line of Christmas villages next year.  My collectable set will include an unsavory Santa, a crack house, yellow snow, litter, cars pulled over for drunk driving, stray dogs, pimps, a crazy cat lady, graffitied overpases, and potholes.  Look for it in stores by next Halloween.