Weekend Update: Starry-Eyed Christmas Contentment Turns to Murderous Rage

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Merely glanced at the Times yesterday so the pompous and insufferable are safe for another day. Instead, you’re getting a weekend report. Consider this a Choose Your Own Adventure post:
* Roll eyes and yawn before puttering off to inhale crueller in breakroom — Turn to Page 3
* Read post, roll eyes and yawn before puttering off to inhale crueller in breakroom — Turn to Page 10

Friday night
Attended Christmas party at the incredible three-level Logan Circle home of A Serious Job is No Excuse regular Hot Readheaded Lawyer. At the Bird cage, I eschew modern in favor of an aesthetic that could best be described as urban 1920s chic. I left thinking “How long would it take to undo three years’ worth of that design work and start over with Eames and pale blonde wood?” It was that incredible. As was her decision to hire the almost-old-enough-to-buy-alcohol lads of the GW a capella group to sing Christmas carols. Every now and then you feel like you’ve stepped up your game by landing an invite to a certain event. That’s what I kept thinking while standing around in her soaring home snickering with ASJiNE’s J about inappropriate relationships and meat guns. (Of course I’m not kidding, and no, that last one isn’t even a euphemism. Actual Taco Bell meat guns.)

Saturday night
Learned that while I was catching a cab home from the party on Friday night, feeling generally content and sparkly with holiday cheer, someone very close to me was being attacked two states away by a feckless thug. In an instant, I understood why retaliation assaults occur.

Sunday
Held the 4th Annual Birthday Brunch for my dear SnacksPlease. Babies seem to be multiplying exponentially at this event, but we did manage to talk about intellectual fare while swilling champagne, so that’s a success. The company was a lovely distraction from the fact that I really did want to be two states away unleashing murderous rage.

Instead of afternoon mass, I headed over to Haines Point to whack balls at the Potomac while listening to Nina Simone’s Finest Hour. There are times when I know that in order for God and I to stay on good terms with one another, it would be better if we didn’t hang out for a while. And besides, my backup plan is no less spiritual than church. While not as satisfying as unleashing the aforementioned murderous rage on the individual responsible, taking it out on a Titleist at least kept me out of jail. For the time being.

I’m not going to go into any details on what happened. My only request is that you undo a degree of the damage this asshat did to my faith in humanity by being kind to someone today in whatever way you can. Thanks.

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One Response to “Weekend Update: Starry-Eyed Christmas Contentment Turns to Murderous Rage”

  1. I-66 Says:

    Meat guns may not have been a euphemism, but surely “whack balls” was.

    Today I have been nothing but kind. To myself. However, familial gathering is approaching this evening, so kindness will be sickening.

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