One of my best friends, Alessia, is dating a jerk. And when I say “jerk,” I actually mean a whole slew of other words but let’s keep it clean, shall we?
For Christmas, she told him exactly what she wanted: 2 pairs of Uggs and a Michael Kors watch (and before I get grief about her being a gold digger, she stupidly spent the same amount of money on him, so calm down).
As Christmas was approaching, he started in with his little comments.
“You know, I don’t think I spent as much on you as you spent on me,” “I didn’t do such a great job wrapping your presents” …blah blah.
Used to his constant meanness, she told him to stop trying to deliberately hurt her and put an end to his unnecessary idiocy. Continue reading
Some people think that Christmas is a time for little kids, and that it’s not nearly as special once you’re all grown up. I’m here to say that is complete hogwash (yes, I didn’t say bull**** because it’s Christmas and there will be no elfing swearing on Christmas! — Sorry, a little holiday humor).
I am 24 years old, and I love Christmas just as much as my 8-year-old nephew. Why? Because it’s freaking awesome — that’s why. What negative statement can anyone say about Christmas? It has lights (which girls love because we’re easily distracted by shiny things, like goldfish; hence our love of diamonds), it has has singing, it brings your whole family together, it has FOOD, it has PRESENTS. Now, the only difference between being a little kid on Christmas Eve/morning and being an adult is how excited you get to watch your loved ones open up the gifts you got for them. Also, opening up your own gifts rocks, too.
And, speaking of your own gifts: On Friday, I Continue reading
This has happened to all of us. It’s Christmas (or any other holiday you celebrate) or our birthday or anniversary, and you see it: The box. The box that is pre-wrapped by a salesperson – and judging by the size – is most likely jewelry. You look at your boyfriend with your eyes wide with anticipation, and rip open that little sucker like your 6-years-old tearing away at what you know is that awesome talking and peeing doll that you’ve been asking your parents for for weeks.
You lift open the top of the box, preparing to scream, “Oh my God!” and then…there it is. Less “Oh my God” and more “Myyy God :(”. In a style that perhaps your Great-Aunt Beatrice would wear, there lies your earrings, necklace, bracelet, ring. Tears start to form in your eyes and you don’t really know what to do. Thoughts race through your head like wildfire.
Don’t cry, he’ll feel terrible, and it’s Christmas. Wait, he just made me feel terrible, and it’s freaking Christmas. No, no, he didn’t mean to. Although, I did tell him exactly what I wanted…so what is this crap?! Do not fight on Christmas. I want to stab him in the jugular. Continue reading