Self, what’s with all the fa-la-la-la-las? Isn’t that from a Christmas carol? And here we are not even at Thanksgiving yet.
Yes, but yesterday self did not have to teach, and even though she has to work three hours today, in the NDNU Writing Center, it still feels like a holiday week. And besides, the Christmas tree vendors are already setting up on Woodside Road. And self can hardly wait to choose this year’s tree, which will fill the whole house with a fresh, pine-y scent, which always makes self feel mighty fine . . .
Anyhoo, preparatory to going to the Writing Center, self is reclining on sofa, watching old episodes of “Charmed” on flat-screen HDTV.
Whoaa, what’s this? Piper in an almost-kiss with that Chinese guy from Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle??? Well, why do they have to stop before actual contact? Jeez! Self was thinking this was going to be a Rubicon of sorts, especially since this Asian guy is definitely not Tony Leung (the only Asian guy allowed to ravish non-Asian women, apparently).
Since self has a little extra money left in her checking account (a very little, after all she also had to pay a dental bill and a moving violation ticket this week), she decides to hop on over to the Stanford Shopping Center and check out items in Bloomingdale’s, which is having a big sale this Thursday. Specifically, she wants to have a look at a Calphalon non-stick roasting pan and rack, which comes with a steel baster and two lovely steel prongs. Self has everything planned out : she’s going to get the biggest, juiciest Prime Rib Roast she can find, and she’s going to get lots and lots of sparkling cider, and she’s going to throw in all the sides she can think of, and then she will invite son’s friends — Kenny, Kramer, Alex, Aubert etc etc etc. — to come and partake.
And self is so overjoyed at this wonderful plan that, just as she passes Eileen Fisher, she stops, pulls out her cell phone, and decides to call son. At which point, son informs self that his friends will probably all be spending Thanksgiving with their own families. And self brushes that aside (Fie, fie, what’s a little glitch like that? She’s still going to get the roast and the Martinelli’s etc etc etc) and tells son excitedly that ever since she got the Handicapped Parking placard from the DMV, hubby is so eager to go to shopping malls, as he loves that we can get rock-star parking all the time, and so self can take son to Stanford Shopping Center and we can window-shop and then stop for a snack at the Peninsula Fountain & Grill or the new California Pizza Kitchen that just opened, across from the Williams-Sonoma. And we have to watch a movie, of course, that’s definitely got to be part of the Thanksgiving plans.
And then son says that he’ll probably be returning to San Luis Obispo on Friday.
“Everyone comes back on Sunday and the traffic’s horrible,” he explains.
“Okey-dokey,” self says. Inwardly, or perhaps stupidly, since it’s perfectly obvious to normal people that Wednesday to Friday is only two nights, self begins counting in her head: Wednesday night, Thursday night. No, that can’t be right. Ok, begin again: Wednesday night, Thursday night . . .
“Or maybe I’ll stay until Saturday morning,” son adds.
“OK,” self says, mood somewhat dampened.
But, anyhoo, roasting pan she just paid for at Bloomingdale’s is such a beaut (Bloomingdale’s has this fantastic plan where you can pay sale prices for items you know in advance are going to be on sale, but you can’t pick up said items until the day sale actually begins).
Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.