Let's pretend I'm the ghost of Christmas past so I may take you back to a time when I was skinny.
A time when I was able to walk out of the house without make up and not scare wild animals.
A time when I could have my fill of pizza, soda and nachos without having severe, life threatening, middle of the night, heartburn.
It was the year of the Lord 1987. I was a young, cool and downright groovie 15 year old who decided to organize a class Christmas party.
We all chipped in and bought punch, chips and a piñata. We all know there were piñatas when Jesus was born.
We brought a *boombox*, some tapes, a stick (for the piñata) and we were ready to start the getting down and boogie-ing. Yep, as you can see, I'm still one cool chick-a-dee.
We also had a tiny grab bag exchange. I can't remember what the limit was but I'm sure it couldn't have been more than $5 since we were kids and about as broke as we are now.
I gave my person a cute little doll that was exquisite in its $4.99 value. What I got in return from a boy in my class was a little bit of a shocker. No, I did not get lingerie! Pervs.
I received the biggest, gaudiest, gold plated crucifix in the history of Popedom. It was about 5 feet tall and was on a chain so I may wear it around my neck.
REMEMBER, I WAS 15.
I still didn't have full control of my reactions. Instead of politely nodding my head and saying "thank you", a little snort escaped my lips before I could stop it. The poor kid stared at me and you could see his little heart beginning to break kinda like how Lisa broke Ralph's heart.
I quickly saved my mean faux pas by saying I had gotten one for my mom just like it so I was just amused by the coincidence.
I didn't want my neck to turn green from the gold plated chemical stuff rubbing itself on me like that weirdo at Kmart. I lived in California where walking from your door to the street left puddles of sweat in your wake.
That last thing I wanted hanging around my neck at the age of 15, was a leash preventing me from the sins I was still trying to commit.
I have no idea what became of the kid or the gigantic cross he gave me. I remember hitting the dance floor and not stopping with the shakin of my thang to Lucky Star until we were shut down because of the noise.
Maybe somebody thought it was real gold because of its shininess and stole it? Maybe the Illuminati has it in its caves of jewels, money and other volumes of the bible? Maybe I dreamed the whole thing and I actually got a pen?
Now that it is 20 years later and some of the wacky tabacky has done damage to my brain cells, we may never know.