Seriously... I'm Kidding

by Ellen DeGeneres

  You have your family, your friends, your family’s friends, your friends’ families, everyone at work. And all those people get nicer and nicer around the holidays. Everyone’s extra helpful. “Do you need anything else, Mrs. DeGeneres? Can I shine your shoes for you?” And I’m always like, “Don’t be silly. You should be doing that anyway.”

  It gets harder and harder to figure out where the cutoff line is. I always like to get something for my mail carrier, but then I have to get something for my UPS person. That means I then have to get something for my FedEx person, my garbage person, my pool person, my plant lady person, my fish pond person, my trainer, my vocal coach, my dog’s vocal coach, and of course the woman who washes my face. And then what about the people I hire to do all my Christmas shopping? Do I have to get them gifts, too?

  No matter what, you’re going to forget someone who didn’t forget you. Here’s how to deal with it—take what they got you and tell them how much it means to you. Then reach into your bag and say, “I got you something special also. Wanna know what it is? Come here. Come a little closer. A little closer. Closer still. One more step toward me. I got you a hug.” And then you squeeze ’em real tight until you think you’ve squeezed out all of the disappointment.

  I feel bad for people with December birthdays because they have to deal with the combo gift. They are constantly hearing, “This is for your birthday and Christmas! Happy birthmas!” A combo gift means you get one real gift and, if you’re lucky, one extra thing your friend found while she was in the checkout line at Target. “Oooh, a sweater and Krazy Glue?! Thanks!” “Well, I know how much you love to glue stuff permanently! Merry birthday!”

  It’s really bad if your birthday is actually on Christmas day. (Unless you’re Jesus. In that case—what a party! By the way, if you are Jesus, thank you so much for buying this book. What an honor. Is there any way you’d give a quote for the paperback edition? I mean, who wouldn’t buy it if Jesus recommended it on the back? I ask only because Oprah’s Book Club ended and it would be a huge get, but you don’t have to decide right now.)

  Anyway, if your birthday is on Christmas day and you’re not Jesus, you should start telling people your birthday is on June 9 or something. Just read up on the traits of a Gemini. Suddenly you’re a multitasker who loves the color yellow. Because not only do you get stuck with the combo gift, you get the combo song. “We wish you a merry Christmas—and happy birthday, Terry—we wish you a merry Christmas—happy birthday, Terry—we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy New Ye—Birthday, Terry!”

  It’s not fair and I have a message for parents out there. Don’t do that to your kids. Plan your love. I’m not great at baby math, so I’m just gonna say in the early part of the year, maybe January until March, stay away from each other. It’s not gonna be easy. Those are winter months and you’re going to want to stay warm. But unfortunately one of you is going to have to sleep in a tent in the backyard. Or one of you can climb that mountain in Brazil you’re always journaling about. Just stay away from each other. You can talk on the phone if you keep it clean. It’s for the benefit of all mankind.

  My birthday is in January, just a few weeks after the holidays. What that means for me is that I get my holiday gifts, and then for my birthday I get mostly regifted holiday gifts. Because everyone does the same thing after the holidays—they make their piles of “Keep” and “Regift.” The iPod you keep. Ugly sweater you regift. Digital camera you keep. Inappropriately shaped candle you give to the creepy guy who works in your payroll department.

  I’m lucky my birthday is in January because people tend to regift the good stuff first. If your birthday is in January or even February, you might actually end up with an iPod because maybe someone got one for Christmas but already had one. Or you could get a really nice bottle of wine because in January your friend still thinks he’s not gonna drink this year.

  But as the year goes on, the regifts get worse. By June you’re getting a framed picture of your friend’s nephew in a frame that says “Our precious boy.” And by the fall people aren’t regifting anymore. They’re just emptying their basements. If your birthday is in October, you’re either getting a Ping-Pong paddle or an infant’s car seat. “Happy birthday! Maybe you’ll adopt one day, Grandma!”

  Maybe we put too much focus on gift giving. It shouldn’t be about a gift or about who gave you what. We all know what it should be about. Money. Why isn’t it acceptable to just give cash? That’s what we all want. Let’s cut to the chase.

  No. Well, yes, but that’s not what life is about. I do genuinely enjoy giving people gifts and seeing their faces light up when they open them. I once brought a box of wine to a dinner party at Oprah’s house and the look on her face was priceless. And that feels good inside.

  So I guess what I’m saying is it’s better to err on the side of being polite and giving gifts for all occasions—birthdays, holidays, Flag Day. And you know what makes the best gift of all? Books like this. And things made out of money.

  Pondering

  One thing that always makes me happy is being out in nature. I love nature. I love trees, I love flowers, I love those hedges that are shaped like giraffes. I don’t know how they grow like that, but they are magnificent!

  I spend a lot of time outside every day. I love doing yoga outside. I love to meditate outside. Sometimes I even shower outside. What I’m trying to say is, I lock myself out of the house a lot.

  I just love being outside. In the mornings, I take a cup of coffee out to my koi pond, plop myself down right next to my life-size garden statue of Helen Mirren, and do what one is supposed to do by a pond—I ponder.

  I ponder all sorts of things. I ponder life and our infinite universe and how lucky we are to find ourselves surrounded by incredible forces of nature every single day. And then I ponder other stuff like how do mermaids always seem to find seashells big enough to wear as bras? Whenever I go to the beach the biggest shell I can find in one piece is the size of a Skittle. I’ll still make it into a bra, but it’s very, very tiny.

  I ponder that expression “You’re a big fish in a small pond.” Do the big fish in my pond know that expression? Do they swim around and try to make the smaller fish feel bad because they’re so small? Or do the small fish know the expression “Good things come in small packages”? Maybe they swim around knowing that even though they’re small they have a lot to offer, like quinoa or an Olsen twin.

  I can sit and stare into my pond for hours and hours admiring the stunning reflections of the sky and the clouds and the birds. We have so many different kinds of birds near our house. They’re always chirping away, and I imagine them saying things like, “Oh, that Ellen—she’s so connected to nature. That’s so rare to see in a human.”

  “Yeah, she seems so laid-back and cool. Look at her sitting on that bench drinking her coffee,” I imagine another bird saying.

  And then the first bird chirps back, “I bet it would be so fun to hang out with her. She reminds me so much of Claire. Such a nut, but so sweet.”

  And while they go back and forth saying the nicest things about me—I mean, it’s just so humbling—I start to think about what it would be like to fly around with them all day long, looking at our Earth from way up above, circling and gliding through the air with complete freedom. Sometimes I get so lost in the moment, I start running around my yard, flapping my arms like a seagull at the beach. A lot of times I’ll even start to squawk. Usually right around the third or fourth squawk is when my neighbor starts screaming at me to pipe down. He’s always like, “Quiet down, lady! And put on some pants!” And I’m always like, “YOU put on some pants, sir!” because in the heat of the moment I panic and I can’t think of anything better to say. Of course, he’s already wearing pants, so it doesn’t pack quite the punch I want it to, but the bottom line is he’s clearly not as connected to nature as I am.

  Anyway, we have a lot of different kinds of wild animals on our property. We’ve seen bobcats and deer and
wild boars. One time Portia was convinced she discovered a whole new species behind our house. She saw something she had never seen before that had tiny eyes and a hairy face. At first I assumed it was my cousin Nancy, but it wasn’t her. Portia said it looked like a warthog, and I had to remind her we don’t live on an African game reserve. Yet.

  For a long time I was pretty sure she saw a opossum, but we did eventually figure out that the mystery creature she spotted was a javelina. They’re normally found in desert areas like Tucson. I don’t know what it was doing in Beverly Hills. All I know is, the next time I saw it, it was reading a script for the next Transformers movie and taking meetings with agents.

  When I’m not pondering by my pond, I’m outside gardening in my garden. (That is, when I’m not lanaiing on my lanai.) I love to garden. I find it very therapeutic. Actually, I treat it just like therapy. I talk to my plants about what’s going on in my life, about my dreams and aspirations, my fears, my regrets, how frustrated I get when someone suddenly stops at the bottom of an escalator without realizing there’s a whole line of people piling up behind them. I find it very easy to talk to my plants about pretty much everything. And the best part is, instead of having a therapist who wants hundreds of dollars an hour, my plants only charge me sixty.

  I just read that gardening is the number one pastime in America. Well, I just wrote it anyway. Who knows if it’s true! What I do know is that gardening is my favorite pastime. I have a lot of hobbies, but there’s something about gardening that’s different. I think it’s because gardening is a hobby you can eat. You plant some seeds, you water some soil, and in just a few short months, you’ve got yourself enough tomatoes to make a tiny salad.

  There aren’t a lot of hobbies you can eat. Like, let’s say you love to cook. That’s a bad example. Let’s say you love to travel, and everywhere you go, you try the food at the best local—

  My point is, I love gardening as a hobby. Right now in our garden, Portia and I are growing tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, beets, eggplant, basil, and a whole assortment of herbs. It smells nice, it looks nice, and I can’t tell you how satisfying it is to be able to host a dinner party and offer my guests the literal fruits of my labor. (As it turns out, these are very different than the fruits of one’s loins. At a recent dinner party, I accidentally asked Martha Stewart how she was enjoying the fruits of my loins and she nearly choked on her stew.)

  If you don’t have a garden, I encourage you to plant one. It’s a fun thing to do and it’s great for the planet. And you know what I always say, time and time again—if you want to add a little spice to your life, plant some dill. And learn to salsa.

  Adults Only Chapter

  As I said, people of all ages watch my show. I have a lot of young viewers, but I also have a lot of older viewers. This chapter is for my older fans—those of you who are slightly more mature. If any kids are reading this book, turn the page now. This chapter is not appropriate for children. It’s for adults who experience adult situations, such as eating dinner before 6:00 and struggling to read menus in dim lighting conditions.

  Many adults, myself included, have trouble reading menus when they go out to eat at restaurants because the font is way too small. I know there are products to help with this problem, like reading and magnifying glasses, but I have a better idea. Make the font size larger. There should be a worldwide standard for menu font size. I’ve included a sample menu below with a suitable font size. You’ll notice that the menu font can be large enough to read while also being visually attractive.

  Daily Specials for Chez DeGeneres

  APPETIZER

  Organic Mixed Greens with Teeny Tiny Tomatoes

  MAIN COURSE

  Something Delicious

  SIDES

  Fresh Broccolini and Zucchiniini

  DESSERT

  Raspberry Sorbet with Capers

  I don’t know why but everything sounds fancier with capers.

  Gambling Tips

  I love to play poker. I play it every single day in my dressing room before I go out to do my show. I play it at home. I play it at friends’ houses. I play it on long plane rides and short plane rides. Basically if I’m awake and I’m not eating, working, or training my dogs to set the table, I’m playing poker.

  I used to love going to Las Vegas. What a clean, healthy town that is. Here is a fun fact about Las Vegas: You can literally do anything there. Anything. You can smoke in casinos, you can drink four jugs of tequila at once, you can try to spin yourself around on a roulette wheel while wearing only a piece of string on your bottom if you so desire. But what you cannot do under any circumstances—and I found this out the hard way—is eat almonds at a blackjack table. That is a true story. I once tried to eat almonds at a card table and I was told by the dealer to put them away because I wasn’t allowed to eat them there. Sexual encounters with an escort? You got it. Wildly inappropriate public intoxication? Anytime! Having a little protein while doubling down? How dare you even think about it, you stupid, stupid fool.

  I don’t know how many of you gamble. How could I? We’ve only just met. But for those of you who enjoy a little risk taking, I thought I would give you a few tips for staying “up” should you find yourselves in a casino or on a riverboat anytime soon.

  SLOT MACHINES

  Slot machines can be hours and hours of fun. Things spin around and light up when you win and they all make loud, exciting noises that make it sound like coins are pouring out of the machines—even though nowadays you only get a piece of paper, which is much easier to carry around and a lot more sanitary, in case you wanted to play a game and then eat some almonds or something with your hands. Just kidding. You’re not allowed to do that inside a casino.

  All the slots have different themes, from animals and sports to Wheel of Fortune and Sex and the City. What is more fun than lining up Samantha’s cosmos to win a really big bonus? I’ll tell you what. Lining up Carrie Bradshaw’s shoes for an even bigger bonus.

  There’s no question that slots are fun. But here’s what you need to do when you’re playing the slots: Walk away when you’re up. You have to. Just walk away. Then, walk back and see what one more spin will do for you. If you don’t win the jackpot immediately, walk away again. Take a breather. Then, walk back and try the machine right next to the one you already played. You know you should’ve played that one in the first place. It was speaking to you, but you didn’t go with your gut. If for some crazy reason you don’t win the jackpot on that one, walk away again. Seriously. Walk away, and go straight to a roulette table.

  ROULETTE

  Roulette is a lot of fun. Here’s my tip for roulette: Always bet on red. Unless red isn’t coming up, in which case you should really bet on black. Similarly, always bet on even. However, if that doesn’t work—I cannot stress this enough—you must bet on odd.

  Here’s another tip: DO NOT place a Tic Tac on your winning number on the roulette wheel and think people won’t notice. They will notice. They will not get as angry with you for placing a Tic Tac on the roulette wheel as they would for, let’s say, eating a nut at a blackjack table, but they will get angry. There are cameras everywhere in casinos. Everywhere. If you think you’re alone in an elevator when you decide to look in the mirror to check if there’s anything in your teeth, you’re not. Someone in a security office is getting a horrific eyeful of the inside of your nose.

  Next tip for roulette: If none of your numbers or colors or odds or evens is coming up, walk away. I mean it. Get up, turn around, and start walking. Go directly to a poker table.

  POKER

  You know what I always say. I say it every day and when I’m not saying it, I’m singing it. You gotta know when to hold ’em and you gotta know when to fold ’em. And you gotta never, ever, ever try to eat shelled almonds at a blackjack table, you dummy.

  Now, you can know when to hold ’em or fold ’em yourself, or you can do what I do. Ask the other players at the table what they’re gonna do first, and then d
ecide. Maybe treat it like a friendly game of go fish. “Hey, do you have an ace of spades? What about a pair of kings?” They might say “Go fish” or they might say “Go… something else.” But I think it’s worth a try.

  If you find that you are not winning too many hands at poker and/or the people at your table are getting mad at you, walk away. I’ve never been more serious. Just take your fifteen shots of straight vodka and your hooker, throw your almonds in the nearest trash can immediately, and walk away. Head to the closest craps table.

  CRAPS

  To be honest, it’s hard for me to give you too many tips for craps because I don’t understand a thing about it. First of all, you can’t sit down, which is ridiculous. Instead, people are crowded around a table throwing things and yelling “Yo!” and “Loose deuce!” and “Give me four the hard way!” It sounds like spring break with the cast of Jersey Shore. My only tip for craps is—and it’s more of a request—please do not blow on the dice. Especially during cold and flu season. There are enough germs in a casino without you getting your spittle all over the place. Your lucky blow is gonna be someone else’s unlucky whooping cough.

  If you find that craps isn’t a lucky game for you, walk away. Take all your chips, put them in your pockets, and—I really mean this—go straight to the cashier. Ask him or her what game they think you should try next. They usually have a feeling about these things.