Did you ever Christmas! find yourself with a desire to Christmas! go to a restaurant that is so packed in that you Christmas! can hardly get in the door? Did you also want Christmas! to have to shove your way into the building just Christmas! to have a chance to crowd in like Christmas! sardines for a fighting shot at reaching Christmas! the bartender? Read the rest of this entry »
Tag Archives: Christmas
When these parties first started becoming popular, I felt bad for the ugly Christmas sweaters. But now that they’ve become so ubiquitous entire companies have been created to supply people with their tree- and present- and Santa-covered clothes, I’m glad there’s a purpose for all of those unfortunate shirts.
It’s been a big “first” movie year for me: Ghostbusters, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Reality Bites, Frozen. It’s almost like I’m a real, living human being in the 21st century and not some weird creature with so little pop culture knowledge the only thing she can confidently reference on a regular basis is Friends.
I’m glad I didn’t watch this movie as a child because I’m pretty sure it would have scared me. Read the rest of this entry »
Sure, there are other bars in NYC that decorate for Christmas. There are other bars that serve expensive holiday-themed cocktails. But this is the only one (that I know of) that’s only around during the season, and therefore, this is the one I had to visit.
Whether it was worth the hour wait in line, the price tag for a tiny mug of egg nog, or the single stall bathroom doesn’t really matter. What matters is it’s yet another thing for the list of “only in NY” things I’ve done that I can bring out when my great-grandchildren ask me about living here and I want to seem really cool (cause you know I’d be a really cool great-grandmother).
My least favorite Christmas song is “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” because it’s ridiculously depressing. When I hear it I imagine someone sitting by herself in her house, decorating a tree, and missing–someone. Whether she’s alone due to death, or distance, or something less distinctive isn’t clear. All that matters is that she’s alone.
And if there’s any time when being alone sucks, it’s Christmas time.
Old-school Italian in Brooklyn. What could be better?
Well, it could have been better if the waiter brought my friend the appetizer she’d ordered, or if, when he finally accepted her complaint that it was wrong and offered to bring the right one, he’d actually done it.
It could have been better if my water glass was refilled more than once an hour.
It could have been better if the food didn’t take an hour to come. Read the rest of this entry »
I used to be kind of into delayed gratification. Apparently. Every year, I had a rule that I couldn’t listen to Christmas music at home (clearly I have no control over the music blasting from speakers on the lamp posts of an entire street in my neighborhood) or play it on the piano until December 1st. For no real reason. It’s not like I was raised that way–my mother decorates the entire house (including bathrooms) for the holiday as early as she can after Thanksgiving.