Party Of Five

Before I tell you about my Christmas, which was excellent, I am going to tell you about my day after Christmas, which---if we are being authentic---I would call Boxing Day, for this is what English people call the day after Christmas, did you know that? I could be responsible and look it up on Wikipedia for you but instead I'm just going tell you that I think it has something to do with boxing up all the food you didn't eat on Christmas Day and giving it to the poor people....or, hmm, something like that. Yeah, you'd better just look it up on Wikipedia, I'm probably wrong. Alhough at least I didn't call it Boxers' Day, like Sean did last week. Boxers' Day, don't you love that? It's kind of like Presidents' Day but way more esoteric. Hey, everyone, let's all honor Muhammad Ali and Sugar Ray Leonard, okay? Oh, sure, awesome, I'm thinking the day after Christmas would be good, sound alright to you?

Anyway, the day after Christmas, my brother Tom convinced us all that it would be fun to go to Six Flags Magic Mountain, which is about a two-hour drive away in Ventura. I know, right? What kind of kids open a boatload of Christmas presents and then abandon them all the next day to go ride rollercoasters? Well, us apparently, although in our defense, it was the only day that all five of us could make it.

Here's a tip about going to amusement parks, by the way: five is not the best number of people to go with. Most rides seat two, which invariably means that someone is left on their own, a sad little fifth wheel who has to sit by themselves in the rollercoaster carriage, checking their own safety belt obsessively since there's no-one else there to do it for them, and smiling confidently at other passengers in the hopes of displaying a charmingly rakish devil-may-care attitude---"yeah, I ride coasters alone, it's the only way to do it, baby"---but frequently veering just everso slightly into Quite Possibly A Pedophile territory instead. Amusement parks should only be visited in groups of even numbers. They should probably also not be visited in 58-degree weather the day after Christmas when everyone and their second cousin has the day off, but that's another story altogether.

Here is a picture we took in my parents' driveway before we left the house. I love that we look like we're in a 90s sitcom here, a mood that most likely stems from Sean's layering of plaid but definitely isn't helped by the fact that we listened to the 90s station all the way up there, singing along to bands you'd forgotten existed, like Everclear (!) and Third Eye Blind (!!) and Matchbox 20 (!!!), and man, don't pretend like you didn't see Eve 6 in concert too, or wait, maybe that was just me, okay, nevermind.

Here is another one where we changed positions and decided, inexplicably, to throw some gang signs for the photographer (my mother) (on her iPhone) which is the sort of dorky thing you do at eight o'clock in the morning when you're hopped up on the anticipation of riding rollercoasters until you throw up, or at least it's the kind of thing that seems sufficiently wacky at the time:

Anyway, we had a great day, you will be pleased to hear, and even managed to stop in L.A. for a celebratory Diddy Riese on the way back, shortly before we all* fell asleep listening to a David Sedaris audiobook (no offense to David Sedaris, riding rollercoasters will take it out of you) which is a pretty discombobulating thing to fall asleep to, or rather, a pretty discombobulating thing to wake up to, particularly in a darkened vehicle with half a melted ice cream sandwich in your lap. 

*Well, Sean didn't fall asleep, of course, since he was driving. I felt the need to clarify that. Probably didn't need to, since you're a smart bunch, but still, in case it was ever in doubt, Sean was awake the entire time he was driving the car. Yep, you heard it here first.

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In case you only got a lump of coal for Christmas---or in case you only gave someone else a lump of coal and now feel really bad about it, because it was only supposed to be a joke but then the other person took it seriously and now you need to make some sort of grand gesture to win back their affections and show them you were only kidding, look, ha ha, here's a proper present instead---you still have two days to win a tiny computer, $500 worth of high-end skincare products, or a pretty nifty machine that brews individual hot drinks. The contests close on December 30, which is still totally enough time for you to win, ship the prize to your intended, and then follow it up with an email that their holiday present must have got "lost in the mail." Or you could just keep it, of course. Way, way** more fun that way.

**That reminds me, did I ever tell you about the person I knew in Charleston called Way-Way? I kid you not, it was on her business card and everything.