fefa

OMG, don’t I totally look just like Jesus?

Totally? Because I get that a lot. Like every year, right around my birthday. Which happens to be right around Christmas. So in case you were wondering, Christmas, the day we celebrate the birth of Jesus by putting sparkly crap on trees, that’s HIS birthday. Not mine. You’ll know because on mine we celebrate by putting sparkly stuff on me. (Now would be the appropriate time to start thinking of your how to equate Fefa to being tree-like remark to comment with below. LOL!!!1!! Dumbass.)

As frequently, and understandably, as people confuse us, it turns out that Jesus and me – sit down for this - we’re different people. I just wanted to point that out real quick. Because every year, without fail, I get the big Christmas/Birthday jip. You other Christmas time babies know what I’m talking about. ‘Merry Birthday!’ ‘Happy Christmas!’ Well, aren’t you so clever? You may as well sign it ‘I’m a cheap bastard!’, because that’s how it reads to us.

Look, all of us Christmas babies understand what this season does. We know everyone is broke from all the gift buying. Tired from all the festivities. Fat from all the eating. Drunk from all the egg nog. Believe me, we know. From the day we were born our birthdays have been lost in the shuffle of the holidays, it’s nothing new. But adhering our birthday to another holiday? WTF? Technically we all have a birthday near one holiday or another. How would you like it if I combined yours with some other event? Born around the 4th of July? Happy 4th of Birthday! Here’s some sparklers. Or perhaps you are a Halloween child. Well, Happy Birthoween! Here’s a bag of various candies I found when that kid at the end of the street tripped on that shoe my foot was in and dropped it. That’s what you wanted, right?

It’s not that we think you’re cheaping out on us by combining our Christmas and Birthday gifts (note: yes we do). And it’s not that we’re bitter that everyone’s too tired, out of town, has family in town, and generally has a slew of reasons why they, why nobody, is even able to celebrate on our birthdays (note: yes we are.). But you’re really only embarrassing yourself when you do this. My telling you any of this is actually for your benefit. Right after it benefits me. You see, we know you did the combo gift to save a few bucks. You know we know. We know you know we know. Know know know know know know know. And that in itself makes the entire gift an awkward exchange in the first place; while we both just sit there – knowing - and grimacing through the moment until it’s finally over, when we both turn around and our fake smiles immediately drop from our faces in relief.

This year I just can’t stay politely silent any more. And your thank you cards will reflect exactly that. Just as I read can read between your lines of cheapness, you can read between my lines of thanks:

Dear Cheap Bastard,

Thank you so much for the half of a DVD you gave me for Christmas! I love it! You can imagine how excited I was that for my Birthday, you gave me the other half of the DVD! What a surprise :) Thank goodness you figured out a way to give them both to me at the same time, otherwise I would have been on pins and needles wondering what happened during the second hour of the movie. Or worse, might have just gone and bought the other half myself not knowing you were going to give it to me for my Birthday! Anyway, I just wanted to say thank you for thinking of my birthday - on Christmas no less! – on a day most people only think of Christmas, well, only someone like you would be thinking of my birthday too! Thanks again! I hope you have a wonderful New Year / Easter!

Love,
Fefa/Jesus

I don’t want to put you completely off of the whole combo gift thing. There are allowances. Holidays and birthdays may be combined in effort to purchase a single high dollar item that may be above the appropriate price range for just one event. And if that’s your MO, hey, go cRaZY! Seriously, do you need a ride to the mall? A co-signer? Just let me know. You should, however, let the person know in advance that a combo gift is to be expected, and why. No need to name prices, simple mention of a high dollar item is information enough. Or, if you need it to be a surprise, make sure you give it to them on the prior event, if the holiday and birthday do not fall on the exact same day. Do not, I repeat, do not be the asswipe that waits until the latter event to give an unannounced combo gift.

All that said, my point is just this: separate the two events. You can even skip the birthday or Christmas gift. (For the cheapskates reading this: do note the OR, this is not permission to skip out on both.) Like I said, we do understand the season and the financial burden that comes with it. It’s ok to not give a gift. Honestly, it’s better than giving a half assed gift - for both you and the receiver. As much as we’d like to think of gifts as necessary, this is not what holidays or birthdays are about. I can’t believe I just said that. Just please understand that it’s also our birthday; a day separate from Christmas, and a day already lost in the shuffle of the holidays as it is. A card, or even a simple phone call to say in ten thousand words or more exactly how great I am and, oh yeah, Happy Birthday, would be more than appreciated. When you try to pull off this cheap combo gift shit, at the end of the day you only look cheap, and I get shit.

posted by Fefa @ 2:56 PM 9 people heart fefa links to this post

Guess who’s back. Back again…..

I know, I know. It’s been a month of torture without any offensively laced posts for your only-funny-when-nobody-is-looking reading pleasure. And I’m totally super duper sorry. You deserve an explanation, at the very least. So without further adieu…because it’s important to me you know how much I appreciate you coming here…because I’ve tossed and turned many a sleepless night stressing over it…because I owe to you my justification for my unexpected disappearance…I’ve been busy.

So my plane didn’t crash, despite Jakey-Poo’s death wishes. We made it to Maui and back, and our trip fell nothing short of fantastic. We would go again tomorrow if we could. If it didn’t involve barreling through the sky at a bajillion mph in a metal cage of terror again that is. The flight there was actually nice. Mind you, I took some advice on relaxing remedies to pop prior to flying. And we were seated in first class, so within an hour of being seated we were more or less (let’s go with more) hammered, kicked back in oversized lazy boy type recliners, and being served hot fudge sundaes. Not too shabby, I could definitely get more comfortable with this whole flying thing. It went so well in fact that when we arrived for our return flight I was only a partial complete wreck, and only annoyed my traveling companions to within an inch of slapping me, like, maybe three times. This is of course what would happen prior to boarding the 8 hour flight from hell.

The captain came on no less than five times during the flight to talk about the turbulence and how there was nothing to worry about, we’re going to keep going higher and lower until we find a less turbulent pocket of air, and don’t worry because he radio’d a plane ahead of us and they’re experiencing it too, it’s totally normal. Oh, well alrighty then. I’m just totally not going to worry and go back to eating my not all the way cooked what looks like it’s supposed to be a, ummm, pot pie? Is that what it is? Kind of hard to tell what with my goddam spork shattering in half trying to break through it’s not fully cooked cement center. Thanks for the heads up jackass. I’m so relaxed now I probably won’t club the flaming gay flight attendant with my ice pie on a spork who was so offended I would dare ask they complete the cooking process of my “meal” that he wouldn’t dignify me with an answer before walking away. Foolishly I gave him slack for his attitude as 1. I understand the fabulousness each gay man needs to both feel and emit about themselves and seeing that he added an extra “d” to Brad on his name tag, knew a degree of this was present, it wasn't personal. And 2. the flight was extremely turbulent and I’m sure that coupled with numerous frightened passengers his job on this flight was far from desirable. Plus, I had my own impending death to worry about. Of course, I queried my ‘fabulous’ friends when I made it home and they assured me that Bradd was, in fact, just a bitch and I totally should have called him on it. So, you hear that Brad with two d’s, whose name is so stupid I refuse to include your second ‘d’ when writing it again? Next time you find yourself in Houston watch your back for rogue pot pies. Bitch.

So to summarize, our return flight pretty much sucked in every way it could have sucked, and couldn’t have possibly sucked more. Brad with two d’s was merely the icing on the cake though. It was the constant elevation changes and never ending turbulence that shook the plane to such an extreme I can only equate it to what I presume it would be like if you were trapped inside of Jenna Jameson’s vibrator that solidified my continuing disdain for air travel.

Aside from needing time to recover from my ordeal and stock up on pot pies just in case, when we returned to Houston I immediately went into training classes. Unfortunately this meant I actually had to pay attention and stuff, and was not in an environment conducive to pretending to work while I actually dribble out loosely sarcastic gripes and stories about myself. And my time out of my 8-5 classes was spent both catching up on work from the week I was gone, as well as the work I missed because of class. And shopping.

So there you have it, the reasons for my prolonged absence, and my eagerly awaited return. Fefa has turned off the fasten seatbelt light, and you are free to roam about the cabin. Or go back to work. Or whatever it is you were supposed to be doing when you were reading this instead.

posted by Fefa @ 9:19 AM 3 people heart fefa links to this post