The Christmas Spirit

So, I like Christmas and I like to decorate my house for Christmas. I'm also a rather crafty person. And that being gluing-popsicle-sticks-together crafty, not plotting-devious-schemes crafty. So I have made a lot of my own Christmas decorations, including the Christmas wreath that I hang on the front door.

So it was particularly upsetting when the fucking wreath got stolen off of the front door the other morning while we were getting ready for work. What KILLS me is that I HEARD it happen, a sort of scratching noise at the door and the cats were peeking at something through their crack in the curtain and I didn't go out and look out the door because I just thought it was someone putting a flier on the door knob, not someone stealing my HAND MADE Christmas wreath.

So this morning I was all Merry Fucking Christmas, stupid trash fucking North Portland. Where you can't throw a Christmas wreath without hitting some sort of ignorant, loud-mouthed, poorly raised, shit for brains, punk-assed kid running around. And all these kids are running around because their ignorant, loud-mouthed, poorly raised, shit for brains, punk-assed parents are just as bad if not worse. Yay, North Portland you rock! And by rock I mean completely suck ass!

Anyway, I digress.

So, I went in for a hair appointment that same morning near Pioneer Square and I'm doing the snippy, blow drying, hair goo styling thing and whining about my wreath a little bit, but am starting to feel a little better about it, but still completely Bah Humbug about people in general. I mean, HELLO! The Christmas Spirit people! Does not include stealing wreathes!

Anyway, so the thing about my hair appointment is that I chopped off all my hair, probably a good nine inches and I decided to save the pony tail and donate it to Lock of Love.

So, I walk out of the salon with this little paper bag full of hair and I run into the "Macy's Crew" across the street. I had seen them before the cross walk light had changed and they were all dressed up like elves and handing fliers out

:::sigh:::

but I have to walk by them to get to my bus stop, so I just decide to deal with it and be nice to them, so when they solicit me I smile and stop to talk to them.

"Have you ever done a good deed?" the elf girl asks me, "Ever given blood?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," I tell her, "I actually have a bag full of hair right here I am going to donate," I add opening up my paper bag.

"That is great! Have a $25 gift certificate to Macy's for your good deed!" she exclaims handing me a gift card.

:::sort of shocked by this:::

"She is donating hair!" the elf girl says to the rest of her crew.

The photographer requests that I hold up my gift certificate and smile for the camera, and then asks my name and where I am from.

"North Portland" I hear myself say. See that NoPo? Even though you totally suck ass, I am trying to shine up your image.

But truth be told, the whole rewarding of the good deeds thing at Macy's did make me feel a lot better about my stolen wreath. I mean, these are essentially the two opposite sides of humanity. The ugly side and the optimistic side.

And even though I totally fantasized all day about what if I had opened the front door when I heard the noise that morning and saw the wreath being stolen, and then chased down the culprit and proceeded to beat the shit out of him with the empty wreath hanger, at least I can feel good about the fact that I am still a decent person who does try to make the world a little bit better.

Although later the only thing I could think about was...

:::oh, please Photoshop out the big zit on my chin for whatever advertising campaign this photo is going to end up in:::