A Weekend to Remember… or Not

I wrote this on December 17th and forgot to fucking post it. BLAHHHH. So this is from 10 days ago. Enjoy anyway.

12/17/14.

I had a fun-filled weekend!

First, I visited the guys at the Worst Episode Ever Podcast for their Christmas special, Worst Christmas Show Ever. It is the first time I’ve been on the radio and I had a great time. We drank beer, discussed our favorite and least favorite Christmas songs, Christmas movies, and traditions. Then we played $25,000 Pyramid and Family Feud.

Lesson learned: I’m not great at Family Feud. But it might be because I was feeling a bit tipsy at that point.

Other things learned:

1. This is the worst Christmas song ever and sounds like something out of a South Park parody:

And what a terrible video, Jesus Christ! Why didn’t the guy at the register just give him the shoes for free? What a douche. And the guy in line behind the kid seems as though he feels like he’s doing this kid a huge favor by buying the Christmas shoes for his dying mom. Get over yourself, man.

2. I never realized this, but “Do They Know It’s Christmas” by Band Aid is really awful. My friend Adam educated us on this fact.

They’re singing about the children around the world who don’t get to experience Christmas. Then Bono comes in and belts,

“Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you.”

And we wondered, what the fuck is that about? Thank God it’s them? What an awful thing to say.

And Bono sings it. So I said, “Bono could afford to provide Christmas to all of Africa if he wanted. But no, he’s just going to sit back, feel bad, and do nothing. Except sing this piece of shit song.”

Seriously. Listen to this shit:

Another point I need to make: The amount of coke Boy George likely bought the day he recorded this abomination could have also went toward an awesome Christmas, Kwanzaa, whatever, for the world’s starving children.

3. Apparently there is a Christmas tradition where people make it a game to find the pickle in the Christmas tree. I don’t know where the hell it comes from, but it’s gross.

4. Rob is an asshole (Listen to the podcast and you’ll learn why). No takesies-backsies for saying that awful shit to Adam. Around Christmas, no less!

5. Bane’s favorite things:

So… that was fun. Really. We recorded for about 3 hours and 45 minutes, and it went by incredibly fast (probably because we were drinking).

My friends may be assholes, but they’re my assholes.

Check out the full podcast.

Worst-Episode-Ever-Christmas
That’s essentially how it went.

Be sure to catch the next Worst Episode Ever on Saturday, January 3rd at 1:00 p.m. EST. Listen and chat live.

~

Second, my husband and I were invited to a Pinterest Party on Saturday evening. To be honest, I rolled my eyes when I first received the invitation. Not at the party invite, but at myself.

Because although I can be a typical broad at times, I kind of suck at being a woman.

Due to the fact that I’m essentially a dude, I recently learned that a Pinterest Party is a party where you bring a food item you found the recipe for on Pinterest.

Sounds simple enough.

But I’m not a lady. And the entire idea of MAKING SOMETHING out of THE ORDINARY for A PARTY sounded like a fucking nightmare.

I’m not going to lie. I have an anxiety disorder, and cooking stresses me out. I tend to shy away from it. I try to learn more recipes to diversify my diet, but in the end, I could truly survive eating oatmeal or an English muffin three times a day. Anything that’s easy and doesn’t require a lot of ingredients or time.

And then I see all my lady friends on Facebook post how they made such-and-such and IT WAS SO DELICIOUS AND EASY OMG!!! And I feel like the biggest asshole of a wife.

Why can’t I be a LADY.

But every time I’m in front of the stove, nothing makes sense and everything is so MESSY and I NEED TO CLEAN IT NOW. Then I ruin the recipe by not timing everything right. And the broccoli or whatever is cold when I serve the piping hot entree. And then I need to heat the broccoli up in the microwave, which automatically makes it taste like shit, and then my entree is cold.

I can’t win.

cooking-didn't-burn-beer

So I was dreading this party because I knew, being myself, I would only make one stupid, easy, thing. And I would feel like the unladiest of the ladies because I wasn’t creative as everyone else and all the things they brought would be super awesome and they would think I was lame.

My husband can bake, which is a lifesaver. So he planned to make a couple of pastries to bring. But then he was sick all week and didn’t want to make everyone else sick with a contaminated dish.

So I quickly whipped up the easiest thing I could possibly make that is not out of the ordinary: Spinach Artichoke Dip.

And it was fine. It was good. People told me it was good. So what the fuck is my problem?

Bang-head-here-headdesk

We drank. A lot. My friend Steve makes hot buttered rum every Christmas season, and every Christmas season we get wasted off of it.

My friend Lydia labeled everyone’s cup so we wouldn’t drink out of another person’s cup. On mine she wrote, “You’re Beautiful!” It honestly made my night.

There was a meteor shower later that night and we all gathered on the back deck of my friends’ Josh and Val’s house, marveling at the meteors dashing across the sky. While drinking hot buttered rum. And being pretty loud. Luckily, Josh and Val have nice neighbors who also enjoy tossing a few back.

I yelped at every meteor I saw, pointing so my friends could see them too. They did the same.

For whatever reason, I felt more alive the more meteors I saw. I savor such rare, natural wonders.

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