Guys I have been totally Scroogin' it this week and I want to apologize. I've been going down an emotional spiral ever since I found out the following:
1.) Christmas is next week. WTF? When did that happen? I'm always horny for the holidays and I just can't get in the mood this year. Now I find out that I have less than a week to get it up?! I can't handle that kind of pressure and performance anxiety!
2.) Bing Crosby beat the sin out of his wife and was an all-around asshole. Yea, Bing Crosby. As in one of my favorite Christmas crooners of all time. Now every time I hear "White Christmas" the left side of my face hurts and I smell cheap whiskey and broken dreams.
3.) I have $46.98 in my bank account. This means that if I'm getting you a Christmas present this year, there's a 98% chance it will be made out of Popsicle sticks, cotton balls and Elmer's glue.
4.) Despite my best efforts and many interviews, it looks like I will remain unemployed through the holidays and into the New Year. That breaks my little soul into two equal pieces. And then pisses on those pieces. And then puts those piss-soaked pieces into a kiln to bake. And then I shall paint those pieces with tempera paint and give them away as gifts.
Man...the holidays are a really shitty time to feel like a big-fat-failure, what with all of the cheer and family newsletters people feel the need to "share." My mom was reading our neighbor's holiday newsletter to me tonight and I thought I was going to snap like a twig. Now isn't the best time to hear that Kari will be wrapping up her last semester at Law School after her wedding and Guy is using his extra retirement time to distill his own gin. That is unless Guy is giving me some of his distilled gin for free, and then I totally care. True story: upon hearing in a holiday newsletter tonight that some random friend of the family just had a new baby girl , I interrupted my mom with, "I HOPE IT WAS FUCKING BORN PREMATURE AND HAS A TINY HEAD AND A SPEECH IMPEDIMENT!!!" and stormed out. I don't really hope that. I just half-hope that. Because I think lisps are more adorable than kittens.
It's really not pretty though. I've spent the past week pretty much acting like when Ron Burgundy gets fired from the Channel 4 Evening News Team and stumbles around San Diego drinking milk and making fart noises with his mouth. I've increased my sleeping schedule tenfold. It's gone from house-cat to koala bear level. When I am awake, I just lay around my bed downloading apps for my iphone and feeling sorry for myself. It's pretty disguisting. (But my Tap-Tap-Revenge score is through the roof!)
I had a rude awakening today though. No it wasn't the screaming about premature babies and small heads that made me realize I'm acting like a complete asshole; I realized I skipped my blogging duties this week. Twice. I'd love to say I didn't blog last night because I was up late applying to more jobs or re-designing my resume. But that would be a lie. Because the truth of the matter is I was up late last night watching You Tube videos of "Bartending 101" and listening to old Beastie Boys singles in my bed. As rough as life seems, there's no reason for me to act like an anti-social 12-year-old boy from 1998. It's time to quit feeling sorry for myself and get back to my real life. And the first order of business: get in the Christmas spirit.
But how to do it? Making s'mores hasn't done it, watching Home Alone hasn't done it, picking out a Christmas tree hasn't done it...It's time to bring in the big guns. I need something that's going to pull mercilessly on my heart strings and kick me in the sentimental bone hard. I need a frog. And a pig. And a Gonzo. And a Michael Cane. I need The Muppet's Christmas Carol.
I talked a bit last year about how every Christmas Eve my family watches The Muppet's Christmas Carol and I weep like a small child in the arms of whoever will hold me. It's that God-damn frog. I think Kermit the Frog could sing "Dick in a Box" and I would get choked up and nostalgic. Kermit the Frog is essentially a puppet/amphibian version of Tim Gunn in my mind. But if anything is going to melt my black heart and fill me with holiday cheer, it's this movie. And a big 'ole Irish Coffee. Extra Irish.
So if you need a little help getting in the mood this year as well, let The Muppet's Christmas Carol be your Viagra. Take my hand, grab a box of tissues and let's get it on with The Muppet's Christmas Carol Drinking Game!
Take a Drink When:
- Gonzo and Rizzo get into an argument
- Someone says "Merry Christmas"
- "Bah, humbug!"
- They break into song
- Someone complains about being hungry and/or cold
- Beaker flips off Scrooge as he and Bunsen are leaving Scrooge's office
- Jacob and Robert Marley (aka the Old Hecklers) laugh at their own jokes
- Michael Cane gets a visit from a ghost (sidenote: could the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come not make me shit my pants out fright every year?)
- THE BELL TOLLS ONE!
- Tiny Tim has a coughing fit
- Michael Cane gets teary-eyed
- Tiny Tim dies, specifically when Kermit says the following: "Life is made up of meetings and partings. That is the way of it. I'm sure that we shall never forget Tiny Tim, or this first parting that there was among us." (Yes I did tear up just typing that...eff you.)
Finish Your Drink When:
- They sing "The Love We Found" during the last scene and you're inevitably crying but trying to play off your tears by pretending to text message someone because grown adults don't cry and emotions are for losers. Damn. That. Frog.
Have a great weekend and look forward to a Becca post bright and early Monday morning! (Want your 2b1b fix over the weekend? Friend us on Twitter! Last weekend Twitter friends got to be the first to hear about Meg's drunken Britney Spears dancing shenanigans...come on, take the 5 seconds to make an account and follow us...www.twitter.com/2birds1blog) It won't suck that badly.