Oh, you nasty, miserable first week in January.
You are boring and self-centered.
You torment us with unpredictable weather forecasts, making most of us opt to stay inside..where there's nothing new on TV.
No wonder I..er..sincere people..break so many of your damn resolutions.
You are one cruel, selfish bitch, January!
My fellow Capricorns and Aquarians despise you.
And just when I was feeling particularly sorry for myself, cursing the fact that YOU are my birth month, (because I am unlucky and/or because my parents got free accommodations at my great Aunt Minnie's rooming house in Atlantic City and conceived me in April of '55) you do something... nice.
You take a blank calendar, a deadly dull weekend, and fill it up... with wonderful surprises!
We were fortunate to obtain four last minute, third row center tickets to see Jim Gaffigan's sold out concert on Friday night, the first audience we've been in where we are not the youngest people in attendance.
Gaffigan talked about laziness and food obsessions and all his selfish flaws and I hated him because..who can relate to that stuff?
Liars like me, that's who.
He described HIS life, which is basically the male version of MY life, and he was irreverent and phenomenal.
It was so great to have my beautiful niece join us, and regale us with this hilarious story:
I may no longer be watching Big Brother, but Big Brother is obviously watching me.
She told me that a few times during the night, at 3:00 AM or 4:00 AM, she gets an alert on her TV, a muffled message that she thought MIGHT sound a little like it came from me, her crazy Aunt Karen, but..how could that be possible???
She thought she recognized that gravelly voice in her slumber, a voice that said, "Jim..stop snoring!" or the more sadistic, "I've kicked you and I've begged you..if you don't stop snoring, I'm waking you up with an army bugle!"
My niece couldn't understand why she was hearing "Reveille" at that blasted hour, until we remembered we once briefly shared an Amazon account.
She was indeed hearing whatever I was commanding Alexa to do, even from seventy five miles away.
I'm glad my commands to Alexa were rated G.
It was a great night of laughter and camaraderie and spicy Mexican food.
And the calendar gods were just as generous the following night, as one of our favorite couples were available at the last minute to join us for the new Tom Hanks movie.
"A Man Called Otto" won't get Oscar love, because it's not boring and pretentious, but it SHOULD.
It should get some award buzz because it was a crowd pleaser and a tear jerker with more schmaltz than a bucket of their chemical-flavored popcorn.
Mariana Trevino is superb as the kindly neighbor Marisol.
Nobody does curmudgeon quite like Jim Gaffigan does, but Tom Hank's Otto gave him a run for the money.
Put this on your movie list and get off my lawn.
It's pure entertainment, which is what we want our movies to be.
I guest if this post has a moral it would be this one:
"Never judge your Weekends by your Wednesdays."
I think that needs to go on a t-shirt or bumper sticker.
But I'm still mad at January.
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