Monday, December 13, 2004 Don't they know it's Christmas?
Silver bells. Silver bells. Where does one purchase mistletoe?* I've tried the grocery store and the other grocery store and a couple of people selling wreaths out of the trunks of their cars, and still nothing. I need it. How else does one make a holiday social gathering awkward as hell? (I have thought of a lot of ways and implemented several of them, but I want people to be like, "Damn, she thought of everything. Damn, damn, DAMN.")
If I knew a little bit more about botany, I could hunt for misteltoe the old fashioned way. Family lore has it that when my parents had just moved out to Irrelvant County, VA many years ago, my mother's father came to visit. He left the civilized country of their trailer and dirt yard and ventured out into the surrounding woods. Soon, you heard him getting ready to decorate. BLAM! BLAM!
He was shooting the mistletoe out of the treetops with a shotgun.** I don't know that I could recognize mistletoe in the wild, even if I did happen to be strapped. Still, this story is proof that I come from a line of people who are willing to use deadly force to get people in the holiday mood.
*My sister just told me I can get fake mistletoe at Target, but I want the real deal. Poisonous plants and kissin'. So good.
**Bang. What's up with that thang?***
***I did not want to write this, but my inner jerk won out, like always. The part that kills me is that I know that including this line will make me cringe when I go back and read over this later on, and yet I'm doing it nonetheless. What's with me, anyway?
posted by Frenzy Lohan | 12/13/2004 05:20:00 PM
0 comments
|
