principles vs. cashmere
I feel very conflicted about Black Friday.
A deathly stampede at Wal-Mart? A woman wielding pepper spray to get an Xbox? Camping out in front a Best Buy nine days before Black Friday? Really? When I heard about these things on the morning news I was shocked.
For like a second.
Ali wore everything he owns to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I can only imagine what he would have done if the temperature hadn't been a balmy 50 degrees...
But then I had this thought:
Why are we surprised when normally calm people start channeling Lord of the Flies, especially after they’ve been standing in a crowd with thousands of other people for hours, in the middle of the night, in order to purchase one of five discounted 70″ flat screen televisions?
We visited not one but TWO Dylan's Candy Bar locations. Marketing at it's best.
Look, I like a good bargain as much as the next person (maybe more seeing as I’m half-Indian) but doesn’t this entire tradition scream bizarre?
I was pondering this last Friday when it suddenly came to my attention that Bloomingdale’s not only had 40% off cashmere but also had a sale on a fabulous selection of Splendid and James Perse.
My next thought was “Stop worrying about the fate of the world and get thyself down to 59th and Lex Ameena.”
Dear Gordon Ramsey - For someone who spends his life fixing other restaurants' issues...you may want to spend a couple of minutes on your own crappy restaurant.
And so I did.
Scary how that works, isn’t it?
ameena’s on vacation = ali’s turn
I’ve been asking my wife if I could do a guest post for months now and a few days ago she finally said yes. I’m sure her yes has more to do with her being too busy single-handedly bolstering New York’s economy more than anything.
In any case, after much brainstorming I emailed her a draft entitled “How to Keep Your Wife Happy.” And she replied with: “You need to make your stuff funnier. More sarcastic. This is neither.”
I have to wonder: was her tone really necessary?
Thanksgiving Lunch...
Anyway, once she makes a decision there’s no changing her mind. So I cut my losses and started over. This time I wrote about how she makes fun of me for being on my laptop/phone all the time but how she’s no better.
“You already wrote about this. Last year. It can’t be done again.”
My wife has the memory of an elephant.
Watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day floats being blown up...
So then I decided to write about her bizarre eating habits. I mean, what she can and can’t eat changes by the minute. Who can keep up? This time I texted her the idea while she was at Bloomingdale’s to avoid being shot down again.
“Should you be pointing fingers?” she asked. “This morning you said you couldn’t eat your potatoes because your mind was in a fog.”
Walking on 5th Avenue. Again...
So basically this post is about nothing. Other than the fact that I can’t do anything right.
What else is new?
2+ years later
I’m grateful for many superficial and petty things this morning. Here are 10 of them:
- I’m getting on a NYC bound plane again in a few hours.
- My husband and his laptop will be seated across the aisle from me for the 5 hour journey.
- I feel secure in the knowledge that I am armed with 3 barf bags for Maya.
- My jeans don’t feel tight despite eating 2 scones yesterday.
- My jeans don’t feel tight despite eating enough crumbs to ultimately equal a third scone.
- I bought new boots.
- I’m wearing my new boots, even though my mom said they “Don’t fit well” and that “I’d think of her words every time I put them on.”
- I don’t feel the least bit guilty taking Maya out of school 2 days early, especially since she’s rile verey good at math and spelling. Obviously there’s no need to be concerned.
- My space bar is working again!
And most importantly #10: I’m thankful that more than two years later people like you still come here to read my shallow thoughts, relentless complaints, and general nonsense a few times a week.
Thank you.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 