what do you want for tea?
So I've been busy. (It's kind of awful that this has become my new mantra. No, seriously, I've said that phrase more often lately than my old favorite, "That's What She Said." [Although, as we shall see, that has made an excellent comeback.)
Let's start with the tale of this year's Yankee Swap.
Let's back up to two weeks ago, when Brad left me a voicemail: "Hey Alaina Patterson, it's Brad. This is me RSVP'ing personally to let you know that yes, I am coming to your Christmas party next week. I've got some wine I'm going to drop off beforehand, because I don't want to be carrying that around in my truck all day -- I'll be coming from work. Anyway. Talk to you later, bye."
I leave him a voicemail back, telling him to give me call back to coordinate. As is the norm, Brad doesn't return the call.
[Can I just take a minute to comment on the fact that ever since Brad lost his work email, we are now calling each other? I'd say more frequently, but usually it's a round of voicemail tag once a month. It's weird, and yet, not.]
ANYWAY. Last Monday, I break the rules of Voicemail Tag and call him back while I'm on my lunch break and leave him another voicemail, telling him that he's got that night to drop the wine off, or else. He calls back TWO MINUTES LATER.
Me: Hey!
Brad: Hey.
Me: Aren't you working?
Brad: Just got out. I have to go get a gift for Yankee Swap.
Me: A gift? You have to buy a gift?! Have you forgotten the rules already?
Brad: Kid. Everyone's bringing nice things this year.
Me: ... What do you mean, 'everybody's bringing nice things'? Don't they know me?
Brad: Yeah, but it's at your house, and it's going to be nice, and --
Me: And they think I've changed?! Dammit! I had the best Yankee Swap gift ever!
Brad: What is it?
Me: Astrological incense.
Brad: ... what.
Me: Missy the Kid and I went up to Goodwill a week ago and when we walked in, there's this rack of incense, all different scents for the different signs of the zodiac. And honestly, I wasn't actually going to buy some until Missy said, in all her wisdom, "Oh, what does Cancer smell like?"
Brad: ... Oh man. She is totally your sister.
Me: Right? Anyway, that sucks. Well, I'll just use my Freeport errand to get a gift card to somewhere.
Brad: Yeah, I'm at Starbucks right now doing that. And look, don't worry about the wine. I'm doing a solid for someone at North Face so I'm working tonight. I'll just bring them.
Me: Okay, no worries.
Brad: And I'm going to try to get out early tomorrow - I'm working Signature, so I would get out at 6... I'm hoping to get out by 5:30.
Me: Don't worry about it. Jean E. and I aren't going to start serving until six anyway. And Sheryl's working until 7 --
Brad: Yeah, when's everyone getting there?
Me: Probably 5:30 will be the average, but -- can I tell you? I have to have the apartment clean and be in the shower no later than 3:30, because I have this horrible image of Uncle Jean knocking on my door while I'm still blow-drying my hair.
Brad: ... Why aren't you taking your shower in the morning?
Me: Because I'm cleaning, and then I can wash the dirt off. Duh.
Brad: Oh. So I should shower, huh?
Me: I'd appreciate that, yes.
Brad: Oh, and there's a slight chance that Sarah might show up.
Me: Okay, seriously? IF she shows up, you know what that's going to be, right?
Brad: A blow-up doll?
Me: THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY.
Brad: Because Steve [James of the Fan] believes that she's a blow-up doll.
Me: What I was GOING to say, before you interrupted me with tales of sex dolls, is that IF your girlfriend makes an appearance, it's either a) a Saturnalia miracle, or b), a sign of the apocalypse.
Brad: I should bring one. One of my buddy's has one.
Me: IF YOU BRING A BLOW UP DOLL INTO MY APARTMENT I WILL TOSS YOU OFF OF MY DECK.
Brad: Is Steve coming?
Me: No, we haven't heard from him. But if you can get him to come, then I give you permission to bring one because that would be hilarious. BUT *ONLY* in that rarest of instances.
Brad: I'm going to call my friend up and see if I can borrow it.
Me: Oh, Jesus Christ.
Brad: I'm going to have to clean the --
ME: OH LOOK SOMEONE NEEDS ME ON THE SALES FLOOR I'LL TALK TO YOU LATER
Flash-forward to the next day at 5:00. Judy -- JUDY!! -- is the first one to arrive, followed by Johnny O. Who proceeds to interrogate me about my DVDs and my books. Johnny: So are those the movies you have seen, Weevil?
Me: Most of them, yes.
Johnny: *sigh*
Johnny: Have you read A Painted House [by John Grisham, which I own in hardcover, along with apparently the rest of his works]?
Me: Not yet.
Johnny: I got bored with the Sue Grafton about halfway through.
Me: I've only read through - M? No, I've read O is for Outlaw. But that was years ago.
Johnny: *sigh*
Johnny: The latest Holmes & Russell was very good. The one with the ship?
Me: I haven't read that one yet.
Johnny: It was way better than when his son shows up.
Me: ... ... HOLMES HAS A SON?!
Johnny: COME ON, WEEVIL!
Uncle Jean and Aunt Amy showed up, and Jean kind of hung around me for a while, mainly because he is now dealing with Crazy!Billy, which is a blog post unto itself (which will be entitled "How Weevil's Revenge Backfired"). Anyway, at about 5:45, I'm standing in the doorway of the living room, and Jean's on my right, with a good view of the porch (which is also the entrance to my new apartment). And when Brad shows up --
Uncle Jean: ... he brought a woman.
Here's the part where I WAS going to insert some pictures of shocked and confused characters from some of my favorite movies, in an effort to detail to you visually what my face looked like. But LJ (and possibly Firefox, I'm not sure which) decided to be a DICK, so ... imagine my face full of shock and surprise.
Uncle Jean: I'm just kidding. He's alone. I just wanted to see the look on your face.
Me: YOU ARE SUCH A DICK.
Dinner goes well, everything's fine, -- OH RIGHT
So at one point I'm showing someone around the apartment, and Brad's leaning against the couch. As I pass him, he asks me:
Brad: Hey, I was thinking about you around 3:30. Were you able to keep on schedule?
Me: Yes. Dick.
And before I know it, it's ... Yankee Swap time.
So I'm over in the kitchen, pouring Glass of Wine #4 (IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL DRINK IF I WANT TO SHUT UP) when someone opens up a box full of bags of tea. Like, a ginormous sampler of tea.
Someone: That's a lot of teabags.
Brad: [Leaning into me so only I can hear] We better be careful what we say about that.
Me: LEGIT GIGGLEFIT
Jean: [Also leaning into me, not sure why I just did a spit-take into my sink] What's so funny about teabags?
Me: No ... no, I can't ... I can't ... it's so dirty.
Jean: Alaina, you've explained 'tweaking' and 'fluffing' to me, you can tell me about teabagging.
Me: OH JESUS CHRIST
Later...
Brad: Oh look, Judy's going teabagging now!
ME: WILL YOU SHUT UP!?
Brad actually leaves the room and has to go giggle to himself in the sunporch, because being near each other was killing us with laughter.
And then ... someone brought a penis cookie cutter. To my Yankee Swap party. And all I can do is yell at Brad, "I thought you said everyone was being nice!"
By that time, I had had four glasses of wine and was quite happy. People started filtering out until the only ones left were me and Jean E. (who live here) and Brad and Molly, the girl from Pro Serve we invited out of pity only to have her actually show up. And she was more sloshed than I was, bee tee dubs. I still say that if Brad hadn't ushered her out, she'd still be here. Anyway, they're getting ready to go and I'm leaning against my couch when Brad comes up to me, arms outstretched.
Me: What, we hug now?
Brad: We hug!
Me: Really? *shrugs* Okay, it's Christmas.
Brad: Thanks for having me.
Me: Anytime. Hey, who ended up with the cookie cutter?
Brad: Check your shower.
Me: Huh?
Sure enough, there it was, hanging from the shower head.
Two Apparentlys about that:
1) Aunt Amy was the one who put it there, but only after convincing Brad that --
2) Brad wanting to put it in my bed was a BAD IDEA.
Oh, Yankee Swap. Never, ever change.
Let's start with the tale of this year's Yankee Swap.
Let's back up to two weeks ago, when Brad left me a voicemail: "Hey Alaina Patterson, it's Brad. This is me RSVP'ing personally to let you know that yes, I am coming to your Christmas party next week. I've got some wine I'm going to drop off beforehand, because I don't want to be carrying that around in my truck all day -- I'll be coming from work. Anyway. Talk to you later, bye."
I leave him a voicemail back, telling him to give me call back to coordinate. As is the norm, Brad doesn't return the call.
[Can I just take a minute to comment on the fact that ever since Brad lost his work email, we are now calling each other? I'd say more frequently, but usually it's a round of voicemail tag once a month. It's weird, and yet, not.]
ANYWAY. Last Monday, I break the rules of Voicemail Tag and call him back while I'm on my lunch break and leave him another voicemail, telling him that he's got that night to drop the wine off, or else. He calls back TWO MINUTES LATER.
Me: Hey!
Brad: Hey.
Me: Aren't you working?
Brad: Just got out. I have to go get a gift for Yankee Swap.
Me: A gift? You have to buy a gift?! Have you forgotten the rules already?
Brad: Kid. Everyone's bringing nice things this year.
Me: ... What do you mean, 'everybody's bringing nice things'? Don't they know me?
Brad: Yeah, but it's at your house, and it's going to be nice, and --
Me: And they think I've changed?! Dammit! I had the best Yankee Swap gift ever!
Brad: What is it?
Me: Astrological incense.
Brad: ... what.
Me: Missy the Kid and I went up to Goodwill a week ago and when we walked in, there's this rack of incense, all different scents for the different signs of the zodiac. And honestly, I wasn't actually going to buy some until Missy said, in all her wisdom, "Oh, what does Cancer smell like?"
Brad: ... Oh man. She is totally your sister.
Me: Right? Anyway, that sucks. Well, I'll just use my Freeport errand to get a gift card to somewhere.
Brad: Yeah, I'm at Starbucks right now doing that. And look, don't worry about the wine. I'm doing a solid for someone at North Face so I'm working tonight. I'll just bring them.
Me: Okay, no worries.
Brad: And I'm going to try to get out early tomorrow - I'm working Signature, so I would get out at 6... I'm hoping to get out by 5:30.
Me: Don't worry about it. Jean E. and I aren't going to start serving until six anyway. And Sheryl's working until 7 --
Brad: Yeah, when's everyone getting there?
Me: Probably 5:30 will be the average, but -- can I tell you? I have to have the apartment clean and be in the shower no later than 3:30, because I have this horrible image of Uncle Jean knocking on my door while I'm still blow-drying my hair.
Brad: ... Why aren't you taking your shower in the morning?
Me: Because I'm cleaning, and then I can wash the dirt off. Duh.
Brad: Oh. So I should shower, huh?
Me: I'd appreciate that, yes.
Brad: Oh, and there's a slight chance that Sarah might show up.
Me: Okay, seriously? IF she shows up, you know what that's going to be, right?
Brad: A blow-up doll?
Me: THAT'S NOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY.
Brad: Because Steve [James of the Fan] believes that she's a blow-up doll.
Me: What I was GOING to say, before you interrupted me with tales of sex dolls, is that IF your girlfriend makes an appearance, it's either a) a Saturnalia miracle, or b), a sign of the apocalypse.
Brad: I should bring one. One of my buddy's has one.
Me: IF YOU BRING A BLOW UP DOLL INTO MY APARTMENT I WILL TOSS YOU OFF OF MY DECK.
Brad: Is Steve coming?
Me: No, we haven't heard from him. But if you can get him to come, then I give you permission to bring one because that would be hilarious. BUT *ONLY* in that rarest of instances.
Brad: I'm going to call my friend up and see if I can borrow it.
Me: Oh, Jesus Christ.
Brad: I'm going to have to clean the --
ME: OH LOOK SOMEONE NEEDS ME ON THE SALES FLOOR I'LL TALK TO YOU LATER
Flash-forward to the next day at 5:00. Judy -- JUDY!! -- is the first one to arrive, followed by Johnny O. Who proceeds to interrogate me about my DVDs and my books. Johnny: So are those the movies you have seen, Weevil?
Me: Most of them, yes.
Johnny: *sigh*
Johnny: Have you read A Painted House [by John Grisham, which I own in hardcover, along with apparently the rest of his works]?
Me: Not yet.
Johnny: I got bored with the Sue Grafton about halfway through.
Me: I've only read through - M? No, I've read O is for Outlaw. But that was years ago.
Johnny: *sigh*
Johnny: The latest Holmes & Russell was very good. The one with the ship?
Me: I haven't read that one yet.
Johnny: It was way better than when his son shows up.
Me: ... ... HOLMES HAS A SON?!
Johnny: COME ON, WEEVIL!
Uncle Jean and Aunt Amy showed up, and Jean kind of hung around me for a while, mainly because he is now dealing with Crazy!Billy, which is a blog post unto itself (which will be entitled "How Weevil's Revenge Backfired"). Anyway, at about 5:45, I'm standing in the doorway of the living room, and Jean's on my right, with a good view of the porch (which is also the entrance to my new apartment). And when Brad shows up --
Uncle Jean: ... he brought a woman.
Here's the part where I WAS going to insert some pictures of shocked and confused characters from some of my favorite movies, in an effort to detail to you visually what my face looked like. But LJ (and possibly Firefox, I'm not sure which) decided to be a DICK, so ... imagine my face full of shock and surprise.
Uncle Jean: I'm just kidding. He's alone. I just wanted to see the look on your face.
Me: YOU ARE SUCH A DICK.
Dinner goes well, everything's fine, -- OH RIGHT
So at one point I'm showing someone around the apartment, and Brad's leaning against the couch. As I pass him, he asks me:
Brad: Hey, I was thinking about you around 3:30. Were you able to keep on schedule?
Me: Yes. Dick.
And before I know it, it's ... Yankee Swap time.
So I'm over in the kitchen, pouring Glass of Wine #4 (IT'S MY PARTY AND I'LL DRINK IF I WANT TO SHUT UP) when someone opens up a box full of bags of tea. Like, a ginormous sampler of tea.
Someone: That's a lot of teabags.
Brad: [Leaning into me so only I can hear] We better be careful what we say about that.
Me: LEGIT GIGGLEFIT
Jean: [Also leaning into me, not sure why I just did a spit-take into my sink] What's so funny about teabags?
Me: No ... no, I can't ... I can't ... it's so dirty.
Jean: Alaina, you've explained 'tweaking' and 'fluffing' to me, you can tell me about teabagging.
Me: OH JESUS CHRIST
Later...
Brad: Oh look, Judy's going teabagging now!
ME: WILL YOU SHUT UP!?
Brad actually leaves the room and has to go giggle to himself in the sunporch, because being near each other was killing us with laughter.
And then ... someone brought a penis cookie cutter. To my Yankee Swap party. And all I can do is yell at Brad, "I thought you said everyone was being nice!"
By that time, I had had four glasses of wine and was quite happy. People started filtering out until the only ones left were me and Jean E. (who live here) and Brad and Molly, the girl from Pro Serve we invited out of pity only to have her actually show up. And she was more sloshed than I was, bee tee dubs. I still say that if Brad hadn't ushered her out, she'd still be here. Anyway, they're getting ready to go and I'm leaning against my couch when Brad comes up to me, arms outstretched.
Me: What, we hug now?
Brad: We hug!
Me: Really? *shrugs* Okay, it's Christmas.
Brad: Thanks for having me.
Me: Anytime. Hey, who ended up with the cookie cutter?
Brad: Check your shower.
Me: Huh?
Sure enough, there it was, hanging from the shower head.
Two Apparentlys about that:
1) Aunt Amy was the one who put it there, but only after convincing Brad that --
2) Brad wanting to put it in my bed was a BAD IDEA.
Oh, Yankee Swap. Never, ever change.