Miami Quarterly

Issue date: 12/12/09 Section: Opinion

HEY EMILY

What makes you think that after agonizing over exams and spending way too much time and money trying to find that well thought out gift, I want to spend every waking moment with you? It's called a break, so give me one. I haven't seen my friends from home in how long? And you expect me to frost snowflake cookies? Let me have a few beers with the guys and you frost the cookies, I'll come over and eat them.

You could always come and meet these guys, but nooo, you insist on wrapping gifts together instead. Did you forget that I spent the day with you and your girlfriends yesterday? You call it a must. I call it a double standard. And don't think I don't realize that meeting your friends is just a way for them to approve of me or not.

I can win over your friends. I can smile and laugh and tell them how great you are. But I'm worried about getting the approval from mom and dad. I've been dreading it since you said you want me to come home with you for the holidays to meet your family.

Let's be honest, I can charm mom. The old line, "I can tell where you your daughter got her good looks from" has always worked for me in the past. It's your father I can't fool. He knows what we do when no one's around. That's why he doesn't leave us alone for any time longer than a minute. I didn't sign up to be babysat on this trip. Your sisters giggle, your brothers look at me with disgust and your dad just STARES. On the plus side, it makes sneaking around a lot more fun.

Night after night, its cliché couples holiday plans. We go ice skating and then get hot chocolate. We watch Miracle on 34th Street while sitting by the fire. We window shop and then drive around looking at the magic of Christmas lights on houses. You find the need to bring your camera and take photographic evidence of these things so you can run home and put them on Facebook, proving you aren't alone on the holidays. For some reason, the other 100 photos of us at parties during the semester seem not to count.

Since it's the holidays, compromises need to be in order. We can go ice skating, but then let's go for real drinks instead. We can sit by the fire while watching a football game. We can window shop and then I'll drive around while you perform your own holiday magic as I look at the lights.

I love you so I make the sacrifices. I'll decorate the freaking cookies and I'll watch the stupid Christmas movies. I'll hang out with you and your friends wishing I was drinking with mine. But as long as I get my bells jingled, it'll be a very merry Christmas.

JINGLE ALL THE WAY

-James Deacon

LISTEN UP JAMES

The holiday season is quickly approaching and you know what that means … watching Miracle on 34th Street, shopping, gift giving and above all meeting the parents. Please, stop cringing. After all, it is the most wonderful time of the year, isn't it?

Lucky for you, the holiday season offers an array of romantic date ideas from ice-skating to making gingerbread houses, all of which allow you to make up for your lack of romance the other 11 months of the year. Believe me, if you want a New Year's Eve kiss, December is the make-or-break month.

Here are two pointers to make your holiday gift giving go as smooth as possible. First off, no gift bags. I took the time to wrap your present in beautifully embossed snowflake wrapping paper and you throw my gift in an oversized previously used gift bag covered in gaudy clip art mistletoe. You're "going green," my ass.

Second, buying an outfit right off the mannequin does not make you a thoughtful fashion-forward boyfriend. It makes you a lazy piece of shit. You really think, during the Christmas season, that I have not spent days at the mall walking by the same mannequin outfit that you decided would be a thoughtful gift? Yes, it's thoughtful all right - carefully thought out by the Gap fashion designer in New York City. Strike one.

My sadness and grief when you never take me out on a date because you are too busy watching football or the hurt I experience when I receive a gift card stuffed in the bottom of a gift bag, all falls to the wayside when I watch as your face turns white, your palms sweat and you hold back vomit when I tell you, "It's time to meet my parents."

You somehow manage to smooth talk your way through life, but when I introduce you to my parents, you sound like a bumbling idiot who finds it extremely difficult to construct coherent sentences. Then you decide to bring up politics and healthcare. I assure you, this does not impress my dad, it only makes him hate you for your liberal stance on something that you know nothing about. Sorry, looks like Wikipedia failed you for your refresher course on the war and healthcare reform. Oh, and telling my mom, "I can tell where your daughter got her good looks from," is not some reverse compliment. Plus, my dad will think you are simply a creep hitting on his wife. Strike two.

So when the parents of your last fling kick you out on your ass, don't go knocking at your old high school girlfriend's front door, tail in hand saying, "Hey babe I'm back, I have been missing you all semester." Shove that teal green Tiffany's box up your ass, because for some reason, the Facebook pictures with that blonde's tongue down your throat will make her think otherwise. Strike three.

Looks like there won't be any bells jingling for you this holiday season.

HO HO HO

-Emily Mouch

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