Merry effin' Xmas

I guess I'm not the only one with a bad feeling about this year's Christmas (I'm not going to link to other blog-grief, you people know who you are).

I, however, have no excuse. I'm going to Florida to see my entire family: both parents, both siblings, all 6 nephews/nieces. Plus my entire step family: step-mom, step-sisters, step-cousins, etc. Plus all the assorted in-laws and friends and hangers on. It ought to be a good time, but I'm dreading getting on the plane nonetheless.

It's not the plane. I always take 5 or 6 six reading options, plus crosswords. I'll be fine as long as I'm not next to fat people or little kids, or worse, little fat kids (heh heh, sorry tubby, I lose a little weight and listen to me).

And it's not because I'm single. I actually rather enjoy that. It's just better to be unnattached, that's all I know (after the first couple months anyway). No one believes me when I say this, so let me attempt to explain.

The steady ass isn't worth the price, because you'll never get over tragic flaws in their character, or they'll never stop with all the nitpicky little "improvements" you're supposed to want to make, and you'll just end up heartbroken or breaking their heart anyway. In other words, nobody lives up to anybody's expectations, and the sex always runs out (but until then, ya know, game on).

I brought up sex first because that seems to be the prime motivator behind coupling. "He/She's an asshole/bitch, but at least I get laid every other night" apparently is a viable excuse to stay with someone. Well, they're sure as hell not doing it for emotional fullfillment.

I dunno. It must be my dislike for people in general that makes it hard for me to tolerate some crazy bitch. I've met a few "normal" girls who put up a good act of not being neurotic, but it's all false advertising. Like high heels or wonder bras, temporary sanity is fleeting.

Granted there are degrees and granted crazy isn't exclusive to women, but you have to admit ladies, you've got a virtual monopoly on the batshittery. You may think I'm the insane one, but who's letting the parking space acquired determine their mood for the next several hours?


Well... I don't really mean all that. I'm sure this is related to the string of low quality women I've found lately. I'm really not that pessimistic.

But this is what goes through my head when some family member conveniently invites their friend over for dinner when I come around. It's not that the setup is obvious, because it is to everybody, excruciatingly. It's that I'm supposed to jump at the chance of a relationship when I live 3000+ miles away, just because.

Amanda likes computers; you like computers don't you? God, how I hate that (show the slightest technical inclination at a young age and you'll be installing drivers for people the rest of your life). Oh wow, she uses email and surfs the net.

Look lady, I'm sure you're nice, and you're from southern Florida so you wouldn't walk outside without shooting yourself unless you were sexy, but you don't know who Les Claypool is, you listen to radio music, and UHF isn't among your top ten movies. Just being nice and pretty is just enough for a fling; that's it (hey, that gives me an idea...). Show me your live Rush collection and we'll talk (the fates, they dealt me an unpopular favorite band).


Anyhoo... So as I was saying, I don't catch much crap from my family. Certainly not enough to justify not wanting to see them.

They don't really bother me for being single, or "between jobs", or fat (in Seattle I'm normal, in Florida I'm fat). In fact, my family is very nice to me. We're pretty normal and healthy, considering all the stories you hear about nutty families. Compared to our extended family, we're downright traditional.

I guess it just doesn't feel like Christmas. It never does anymore. The magic went out of this season several years ago. Waking up to a fresh coat of snow on Christmas morning just isn't going to happen ever again (figuratively). And there's nothing material that's ever going to make me that happy, so it's a constant reminder that things were better.

I guess Christmas ended when my brother and sister stopped coming home for it. I'm the youngest, so I still celebrated it with my parents, but that wasn't much fun as their marriage was self destructing at the time. Though I do recall leaving "Santa" a beer towards the end there, which my Dad and I still laugh about.

When I was in college, we held it at my sister's place, but it was hard to enjoy myself when I was hepped up on anti-histamines (cats), trying to be happy for the plastic piece o' crap parade, watching my sister's marriage implode. Happy times.

Despite these, um, imperfections, I still don't really have an excuse for not wanting to be there. I don't know why I'm not looking forward to it this year. I guess it's just a big fat reminder of the passage of time and that makes me sad.

Plus I'm riding the couch because apparently if you're a parent, you're guaranteed a bed. Even though I'm the one waking up at 6am everyday to some oh-so-cute kid peforming an adorable kneedrop, it's just expected of me (they say "that's when the day starts" but they don't come out until 8-something). Don't they know that I don't go to bed at 9pm? That's scotchy Sports Center time.

And don't get me started on hanging out with the old people. They're great when they get up from their naps, between the hours of 3 and 6pm. Then they all go back to bed, after setting out and eating their breakfasts.

And the worst worst worst is when one of them corners you and talks your ear off about god. Oh sweet jesus lady, I know you're staring death in the face, but if I have to listen to one more story about Aunt Gertie expressing her disapproval of Uncle Morty's lederhosen by knocking your french fries over from the spirit world, I'm gonna rampage through a hospice.

Gravity, G-R-A-V-I-T-Y. It's even older than you are. Look into it.


But you know, in the end it's not bad at all. I'm lucky, and I know it. I can't explain why I don't want to go.


I guess the moral is: just because you have every reason to despise Christmas, doesn't mean you should. Look at all the blessings I have here: a huge family that loves me and a reunion in Florida. And I'm bitching about it. Someone slap me. I'm an idiot.

Still, I can't shake this feeling of dread.

Summers going fast
Nights growing colder
Children growing up
Old friends growing older

Time stand still