Arts and crafts

Diane, Kim and Steph decided they are not going to take down their Christmas tree. Instead they are going to decorate it for every holiday all year long. I just want to go on record saying that though these women are total dorks, I think this is a fantastic idea. As such I invited myself to be a part of the holiday tree decorating committee. Sharda also invited herself to join.

Tonight we had our first "meeting". Each "meeting" consists of doing arts and crafts and drinking my boyfriend, Bricco Riella Moscato d'Asti. Yes I said arts and crafts. We actually made stuff to put on the tree. It was like elementary school all over again except with less glue-eating.

We made all these ornaments and garland out of construction paper and stickers and ribbon. Because we're 7. Actually everyone else made decorations. Since I was never really good at arts and crafts, I just made up poems about all our guy friends*. If you want to read them, gentlemen, you have to come over.

As I said we were drinking my boyfriend. Steph-because of this blog I might add-was given a case of it for Christmas, and she generously shared it with us. The first bottle went pretty fast so we decided to open up a second. Seems simple enough, right? Wrong.

The girls are the proud owners of what has to be the absolute worst corkscrew available in North America. As expected when you use such a piece of junk, the metal screw broke off in the cork. Diane grabbed some pliers and tried to manually take it out. A plan which failed horribly. Luckily the girls had a second corkscrew. Unluckily it was the same kind as the one that had just broken. Diane decided to try and use it.

Here's where the details get a little hazy for me because I'm not sure what exactly happened. Kim, Sharda and Steph were busy making a paper chain and ornaments (seriously), and I was busy skewering my guy friends in poetry form so none of us were paying attention to what Diane was doing. Suddenly we heard a deafening POP and looked up to see Diane covered in wine and holding a bottle with the top ripped off. I mean ripped off, people. The entire neck of the bottle was on the floor. My little sister had actually torn a glass bottle in half.

My first reaction was of complete panic because I was 99% sure she had lost a finger or an eye in the process. Thankfully the damage wasn't that bad. I mean she lost a pinky, but nobody really uses those anyway. Okay actually she cut her left hand in 3 places and was bleeding nonstop, but all appendages and eyeballs remain intact.

After we tended to Diane's bloody hand, we decided to throw the wine away. Surely there was glass floating around in there. But 10 minutes later we found Steph and Diane staring at the wine longingly and whispering to each other. "We want to drink the wine." Kim, Sharda and I were against this idea. I don't know I guess we're just not into drinking shards of glass.

"What if we strain it?" they said hopefully. We argued back that there's no way to completely strain out glass. What if there are little slivers in there that you can't really see?

They were undeterred, and a few minutes later I couldn't believe what I was seeing. They were straining the wine into a bucket through a garlic press. A garlic press! I won't try and explain it because I can't. All I can say is that straining wine through a garlic press is sooo Steph and Diane.

They poured themselves each a glass then asked us if we wanted some. Kim said absolutely not. Sharda gave in. I was reluctant. Then Diane said, "Last week on the radio some guy ate a light bulb." How can I argue with that? "Fill 'er up!" I said.

So now I'm pretty sure my esophagus is bleeding and my stomach lining and intestines are not far behind, but it was so worth it. Especially for this masterpiece:

























P.S. Seriously, though, if you guys don't hear from me tomorrow, someone call 911.

P.P.S. I'm pretty sure that cross hanging in the background is from our friend Mike's Halloween costume in 2004. He came as a priest...and he brought a little boy Cabbage Patch Kid. So wrong yet so right.

*I just want to say to Gordo that your poem is the only one I did not write so please blame Kim and Steph. Thanks.