Fa la la? Nah, not in my head


The blame goes to every department store, radio station and cable music channel that started the "Silent Night" loop early this year. That's the only way to explain why inside my brain, in early December, lives a little drummer boy walking in on his mommy kissing Santa Claus as chestnuts roast by an open fire.

The bad news: Christmas carols have taken over my mind. The good news: My mind has a built-in lyric translator, designed for the modern woman.

Let's just say these are like the holiday classics the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would sing, only nothing like the holiday classics the Mormon Tabernacle Choir would sing.

It all started when I rocked a new frock recently. Nothing puts pep in a woman's step like a weight-camouflaging, curve-enhancing dress. Likewise, nothing soils a woman's spirits like red ink on the beige blouse of said dress.

I stomped off to the bathroom, my better senses telling me to surrender. Everyone knows only hairspray gets rid of ink, and hairspray would only put an exclamation point on my ink flub.

Taking a wet paper towel to the scarlet stain, I gingerly tried to rub out my carelessness while mourning the loss of a damn good dress.

That's when I heard it. The chorus to a song often brought out for the holidays, translated for that very moment in 2012.

When the ink marks
When the dress stains
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad

Anyone not dying to hear the rest of the ditty probably also thought Tiny Tim should just suck it up already. Get in the spirit.

Before going any further, however, I should warn folks that I have very little in common with a nun-aspiring Austrian woman who, sans a single death threat, cared for someone else's seven children in the prime of her club-hopping years.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens?" That may have been what got things going for Maria from "The Sound of Music." But not me.

Without further ado:

Burning my Spanx and celebrity scandals
Long beach vacations and cute Twitter handles
Living vicariously through single friends' flings
These are a few of my favorite things

Unfriending douchebags and a rack full of wine
Dorothy Parker quotes and a front-page byline
A "Real Housewives" reunion and the drama it brings
These are a few of my favorite things

"Breaking Bad" predictions and soft slipper boots
No need for Photoshop and zero gray roots
A full weekend off from my husband's sports teams
These are a few of my favorite things

And there you have it. The modern-day, much-improved version of "My Favorite Things" - not counting Oprah's, of course.

Next week I'll rewrite "Baby, It's Cold Outside." In which the male singer will discover a little thing called "no means no" and the female singer will learn the concept of a "booty call."

Contact Xazmin Garza at xgarza@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0477. Follow her on Twitter @startswithanx.

 

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