A recap, a declaration of love and a quick retraction because I am fickle

We figgied and it was good.

There is something to be said for standing on a downtown street corner with a group of like-minded (and by "like-minded" I mean "crazy") folks and suddenly breaking into song at 6:15 p.m. in front of a group of strangers. (And even if the crowd was everyone else's friends and only strangers to me, it still counts.)

There is something to be said for throwing on a pink feather boa and prancing around with your sister to 'Santa Baby', in front of last year's president of the BaneOfMyExistence Organization and relishing how long it takes him to realize, "Hey, is that MAGGIE?"

There is something to be said for 963 carolers raising a crapload of money for a downtown low-income senior citizens center that happens to be doubling in size this year.

That something to be said might be: We are freakin' awesome. 

We skipped the awards ceremony this year, which is a hour's worth of thank yous and two minutes of performance highlights, and headed straight for our self-congratulatory drinks at the Westin. And can I just say that I am married to the most fabulous guy on earth? Mr. Classical Saxaphonist led us all through a medley of Santa Claus-ified oldies, played a beautiful street musician solo during 'New York State Of Mind' and kicked his voice up a few notches when the resident spotlight hog fell sick with laryngitis. Without Phillip we were just a bunch of loony people shouting about what Santa better bring us for Christmas.

*love*

And while I was shopping and eating cookie dough making Christmas cookies, poor Phillip was working. Work work work. He took some time out for Neighbor's thirtieth birthday party shindig at the bowling alley, but then it was back to the cavernous pit on the bottom floor of our house, also known as The Office or No Girls Allowed. Something about a deadline? This Friday? A big databasey project with godawful forms and report formatting? (The most frightening aspect of all this is that I UNDERSTOOD what he was working on. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?)

I went shopping. I wrapped presents. I ruined two cookie sheets when I used wax paper that melted. (Really. What is my problem? But I SWEAR I have successfully used wax paper instead of parchment before, I SWEAR.)

Oh, and in between we argued about where the Christmas tree was going to go. Because even though our house is bigger than our old apartment, there aren't a whole lot of options. Especially when one person absolutely insists on putting the tree in front of a window. And by "absolutely insists" I mean "pitches fourteen hissy fits and cries inconsolably, breaking the other person down tear by tear until he moves every piece of furniture to her liking."

Also, I realized that I am having a Christmas party this weekend. The invitations are out. People will probably show up. But I have no idea what we're going to eat or drink or where they're going to sit or, most importantly, what I'm going to WEAR. And if the party stinks we're all going to blame Phillip who wouldn't let me buy the copy of InStyle Parties in the grocery store rack. (He also wouldn't help decorate the tree. We're going to start calling him Ebenezer.) (Except for when he's slaying us with saxaphone. Then he's all right.)

Send your party tips to mightymaggieATgmailDOTcom!

Comments

[jackie]

Dude. Always parchment paper instead of wax paper. Best Alton Brown idea ever. *giggles*

[maggie]

GAH. When I pulled the smoking cookie sheet out of the oven, I had a vision of Alton wagging his finger at me and chanting "I told you so!" BUT REALLY. I'VE DONE IT BEFORE!