Friday, April 22, 2011

Pick a day, Easter.

As Easter approaches, I feel the need to express my lack of understanding about holidays in general. Let me start by saying that I don't understand holidays because we never celebrated holidays when I was a child. I tell people this and they always say, "Oh my God, you never got to celebrate Christmas?! What about Halloween--did you go trick or treating?" When I tell them no, I did not go trick or treating and there was never a Christmas tree or Christmas presents in my house, they act as if I just told them that every year, my parents made us each kill a puppy for Satan. They relax slightly when I tell them that Thanksgiving is a holiday we choose to celebrate, mostly because we love to eat. Although we call it Turkey Day to avoid Jesus being a part of it. Thanksgiving is the celebration of Jesus's first day of Kindergarten, right? And there was a turkey...? Never mind.

Easter is easily the weirdest holiday in my estimation. I never remember that it's Easter. I always drive to Target and freak out because the parking lot is empty. A Target parking lot is never empty. I wonder if a zombie apocalypse has finally happened, text someone ("Dude...why the fuck is Target closed?"), drive around in a near panic and finally get the message that it's Easter. Then I get mad. Is it really necessary to close Target for a holiday that most people feel pretty lukewarm about? 90% of people who get asked, "Are you doing anything for Easter" answer, "Meh...ham at my parents house...nothing special." Also, why does Easter keep moving? It's all over the map. Pick a day, Easter. It would make it a lot easier to remember that it's Easter and not waste my time trying to go buy tampons and a toaster.

The time leading up to Easter is also strange to me. People give up things for Lent but they always give us stupid things, like swearing or Taco Bell. Honestly, I'm no expert, but I do know that Lent is about self-denial of worldly possessions. So...you believe Jesus died for our sins and in the pursuit of religious and spiritual whatever, you've given up the F-word and 7-Layer Burritos? Really? Not very impressive.

Easter candy is not good, either. Those chocolate eggs with the white and yellow cream inside are nasty. Whose horrible idea was that? "You know, people like eggs and they like candy...what if we made a candy that made people feel like they were eating eggs but was really chocolate and white and yellow goo of some kind? What if we did that?" And if I never see another Peep again, it will be too soon. I had a boyfriend who used to make me hit every single Walgreens the day after Easter so he could buy all the Peeps at 75% off, which he would then put in the microwave. Sometimes he would stick a toothpick in them first because "it looks like they're holding a sword and when they expand in the microwave, it looks like they're having a sword fight." These were the moments when I questioned my life choices. Incidentally, he smoked a lot of dope. A lot.

This Easter I get to go see the Pixies in St. Paul, which is absolutely the most magical thing that Jesus and the Easter Bunny could have brought me. To celebrate the end of 2 Fish Fillets for $2 at McDonald's, I will be reliving my high school fantasies of being best friends with Kim Deal and makeout friends with Charles Michael Kittridge Thompson IV. So I'm not mad at Easter this year. I finally know what it's all about: ME.

Monday, April 18, 2011

But Maybe the Queen of Mexico

My 6 year old niece is obsessed with princesses. Ob. Sessed. I was never this little girl. I mean, I liked the concept of a princess or a queen simply for the fashion and the handsome prince. But from what I recall, I was never a wearer or crowns or gowns. I walked around with a blanket on my head to symbolize the long blond white girl hair I always wanted but we don't need to pull at that thread right now, do we?

Q has an abundance of Disney princesses in her possession and, to be fair, her parents have not bought any of them for her. This is all Grandma's doing. I'd also like to point out that the child is a genius who reads and writes better than any 6 year old in the free world and can articulate better than most adults about a variety of subjects. So she's no vain, shallow child. But she was definitely bit by the princess bug.

When it's time to play, she directs all action up front, assigning dolls and boyfriends. Of course, playing princesses with me is not easy.
Q: "Here, Aunt Dee, you can be Belle and I'll be Tiana. They're getting ready for the ball."
Me: "What is the ball in celebration of?"
Q: "I dunno, it's just a ball. Bell is going with the Beast and Tiana is going with Naveen."
Me: "Maybe Bell just wants to by herself. She doesn't need a date."
Q: "Yes, she does. She can't go to the ball by herself."
Me: "Sure she can! All her friends will be there. She doesn't need the Beast to have fun."
Q: (narrowing her beautiful eyes at me) "She needs to go with Naveen."

So I give in and stop peppering play time with feminism (or is that bitterness?). Everyone goes to the ball and has a date. At some point, Q's doll decides to steal my doll's date and we have another conversation about how every story need not revolve around a man. Then my sister chimes in that every story needs conflict and I give in again. None of this lasts more than 10 or 15 minutes anyway as Q will be distracted by something and be on her merry way.

One day I decided to tell Q the truth. "You know...you'll probably never go to a ball. Like, people don't go to balls."

She just stared at me with that angelic face, expressionless. I couldn't tell if she was thinking, "Well duh, Aunt Dee," or "Are you fucking kidding me?! There will be no ball?!?!"

She sighed and said, "Aunt Dee, I'm not the Queen of England but maybe I could be the Queen of Mexico."

Rather than explaining that Mexico doesn't have a queen and, honestly, if they did, she probably doesn't want that job (what with all the violence in Juarez), I laughed and tickled her. But it got me thinking. What is our obsession with the role of princess?

As Kate Middleton prepares to transition from commoner to princess, our country has become fascinated by her. Incidentally, we have no monarchy and folks moved here to escape that schlocka a million years ago or whatever. But for a nation founded on disapproval of the monarchy, we sure are interested in the monarchy. And look at all the tragic things that have happened to princesses and queens over time. These ladies more often than not meet tragic, cruel ends. I'm not saying that Kate is going to be kidnapped and quartered by the French or anything. But beyond all the scary and gross deaths princesses and queens have faced over the years, I bet being a princess is really, really boring.

Imagine all the looooooong events you'd have to sit through, your legs perfectly crossed at the ankles, hands folded neatly in your lap, fighting off the yawns while people endlessly took your picture. You could never have a shitty day where you run to the drugstore in your sweatpants for ibuprofen. It doesn't matter if you have terrible cramps, you simply must be there for the dedication of the new Pediatric Prosthetics wing at the hospital lest people think you a cold, heartless bitch, scoring you a headline along the lines of, "Princess Doesn't Care About Limbless Children, Only Cares About Self, Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby."

And for God's sake, what if you were infertile or decided you didn't want to have children? The press would talk about your womb as if it were the crumbling leader of a Middle Eastern country chock full of oil. "We've got to get in there, fix the problem and harvest the goods."

You could never "accidentally" drink too much chardonnay at the party and slur anything about "my motherfucking mother-in-law from hell" or half-jokingly say, "We should invade China" or suggest a round of body shots with your hot ginger brother-in-law. And you can forget about forgoing panties at the Westminster Polo Championship because a stiff breeze will blow your skirt up and the whole world will know you've retired all grooming efforts.

Also, you probably shouldn't have an opinion about anything. You'll need to perfect stock answers to politically and/or socially charged questions. "Princess Kate, what do you think about the situation in Libya?"
(Smiling brightly) "I'm very proud of my charitable duties and my husband's commitment to the whole of England. We are very much against AIDS, global warming and all sorts of other nasty things."

The worst part of being a princess would probably be marrying down. Kate Middleton is smokin' hot and William...well, he does look a lot like his father, now doesn't he? Did you see Charles and Diana's wedding? Don't tell me you didn't notice the look of slight nausea and panic in her eyes at several stages during the ceremony. Those were the moments she was thinking, "What the fuck am I doing?! I'm a super hot 80s babe with sweet, sweet feathered hair; why am I marrying this shriveled old man?! Dear God and Queen Mary of Scots, save me!"

Oh, if being a princess were all about going to balls, wearing lovely dresses and putting little to know effort into your stunning beauty. If only there were princes to save us from our poison apples, cruel spell-casting sea hags, yeast infections and cable bills. Alas, this is not the case. I guess we'll just have to save ourselves.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Things you should never say to black people (and by "black people" I mean "anyone").

1. "I have a lot of black friends." No you don't. In fact, I'm willing to bet if you ever met a black person, they would hate you. A lot.

2. "My best friend is black." If by "best friend" you mean "the woman who sits in the cube next to mine who I smile at every morning", then yes; your best friend is black.

3. "I've always wanted to have sex with a black woman/man." And now you never will.

4. "I had sex with a black woman once. She was a hooker." A man actually said that to me once. He was also missing a tooth. A front tooth.

5. "You're the first black woman I've ever slept with." Great; here's your paperwork. You'll need to see a notary in order to officially be granted the title White Dude Who Had Sex with a Black Woman.

6. "Can I touch your hair?" Can I touch your ass?

7. "Do you know Random Person Who Also Happens to be Black?" Yes, we all know each other. Actually, there are only 4 of us; the rest is all mirrors.

8. "Black people are such great singers." Clearly you've never met my father. Or my brother.

9. "Do you use the word 'nigger?' Why is it ok for black people to say 'nigger' but white people can't say 'nigger?'" Well you've just said it three times, asshole. And just because I'm standing here doesn't make it acceptable.

10. "I'm 1/16th African American." I'm 1/16th impressed.