Still Don't Like Christmas

I understand that some people adore Christmas and that's fine; just stay the hell away from me and try to get it through your head that I am not one of you. Every year I go through the same feelings of dread simply because it seems that no matter what I do, no matter what gifts I purchase, nothing is ever good enough. More specifically: I am not good enough.

When I was a kid, Christmas was great. My brother and I would go out with our dad and find a tree, cut it down, and laugh when Mom said it was too big and we wouldn't have enough ornaments for it. Then, it wasn't about the presents, although they were awesome as well. We had the same routine every year and after my parents split, it just wasn't the same. Not that I am blaming my dislike of the holidays on my parents, I am just saying their divorce was a factor as to why I am not a big fan of Christmas.

Over the years I have tried to recapture that feeling I had as a kid and guess what? Can't do it. My father is gone and my mother is married to complete asshat who can't remember my name most of the time despite being in my life for the past 25 years. I thought that by being in my new apartment and having BG by my side, things would be better this year so I invited my brother and his wife and my mother and what's-his-name over for dinner. Disaster. I will never do that again, I can tell you. I am an idiot for trying. Again.

My mom and her husband arrived before my brother and his wife so BG and I had to entertain them. I made coffee, served hors d'oeuvres, and made small talk. My mom told us all about the great time she and her husband had had the previous night at their house with the whole family. She said: 'It was so great to have the whole family together for Christmas finally. Everyone was there. It was so wonderful.' I guess she forgot that I wasn't there.

Part of me wants to laugh it off as just one of those things but deep down, I am hurt. Hurt because when I first approached my mom about having dinner on Boxing Day she agreed, but because her husband's son decided he wanted Christmas dinner they decided to have everyone over Christmas Day. I was not able to join them as I had already made plans with BG's family because I had been told that my mother wasn't going to be having dinner. So once again, I was not included and they went out of their way to make sure I would not be included.

Christmas is a hard time for me because I usually slip into a bit of a depression and this situation has not helped at all. I am upset, hurt, angry, and there is nothing I can do about it so why can't I let it go? I will tell you why. I firmly believe that if you are a shitty person, shitty things will happen to you and I want to stay connected to these people to watch it happen: specifically, my mother's husband. If anyone deserves a heaping portion of shit-on-a-stick, it's that guy.

I am tired of being the one who remembers his birthday and helps my mom plan his surprise party. His own kids don't do that, so why am I? Because I keep hoping that one day he will act like a father towards me, and that is not going to happen. He doesn't even like me. He can't remember my name most of the time when I call and he goes out his way to do things that will hurt me.

I am not his child, and I do not need his approval. I am my own person and I think that if my dad were still alive and saw what I was putting up with, he would shake his head at me. I am so strong in some ways, why am I so weak in this one? I am trying to protect my mother. I figure if I behave the way I am expected to, he will be nicer to her. Sound dumb? It is. People don't change, and I am finally realizing that no matter what I do or how many cards I send he is still going to treat her like shit. I have to accept that this is her decision and that it isn't my fault. I didn't pick him for her; she did. It's upsetting for me to hear about how he treats her but I have to remember that she chose that life for herself and has the opportunity to leave whenever she wants.

I am just tired of being the black sheep when I am the one who does all the things that kids are supposed to do. Fuck it. I am done with it all. My father is dead; I need to remember that.

I Feel Like a Bitch

One of my colleagues is very sick yet still continues to come into work. Why? She is sitting at her desk, hacking, coughing, and sneezing all over everything, and will most likely make everyone in the office ill just in time for our Christmas break. Does this sound like a rant? Good; because that's exactly what I'm about to do.

I understand that people need to work in order to get paid. I also understand that when you have used up all your sick time you might feel as though you have to come in despite the fact that you are ill. People have children and other responsibilities. I get that. What I don't get is the apparent double standard: people with kids don't usually allow their children to go to school or mingle with friends if they are ill. So why is it okay as an adult to throw that caution out the window when they are sick and go into work?

I am a healthy person. I eat properly, I get enough sleep, and I excercise. I don't get sick very often and when I do I can usually sleep it off. Seriously; ask my mother. I have been ill more often at my current job than I have been at any other job I have had. Why? Because it's a small company and my co-workers feel pressured to come into work when they are sick. So now, my co-worker is here spreading around her germs and everyone will no doubt end up sick. Plus, her constant cough is driving me mental. I want to walk over to her desk and shove a Halls down her throat so she'll shut up.

Grr. I have so much work to do and it's all editing-type stuff that requires concentration which I cannot do because of her coughing. I realize I am being ridiculous but come on. If you must be here, then take steps to at least try and quell your incessant cough.

I am totally wearing my grumpy pants today.

What Have We Here?

There were so many reasons to not get out of bed this morning. Instead, I hauled my ass out of bed, made coffee, showered, dressed, and went to work. I am sitting at my desk right now more than a little miserable to have left the warmth of my apartment. Plus, it's Friday.

Sad part is, I have so much work to do that I really should be nose-to-the-grindstone but instead I'm blogging. I find that as my workload increases, my reluctance to do said work also increases to the point where I surf the 'net and read online comics instead of actually doing what I'm being paid to do. It's the week before Christmas and although the work is still piling up, I just can't seem to get my shit together enough to do any of it. I see the emails piling up in my inbox and yet I just can't seem to find the energy to open them. I am going out of my way to not do any work at all and it's only going to get worse, I can feel it.

I am now going to build a fort out of duct tape and file folders.

Meat-filled Birthday

This year was one of the best birthdays. I had my actual birthday off and spent it with BG as he also had the day off. He made me breakfast in bed (peameal bacon and eggs) and kept refilling my coffee while I opened the gifts he bought me. Let's just say it was a very GI Joe birthday: complete dvd set of the cartoon, the 12" Storm Shadow collectible figure, the new movie on blu-ray, and a signed piece of art with my two favourite DC characters Hawkman and Hawkgirl. And that was just the beginning.

We met my mom for lunch, meandered around downtown, and went to a movie. After the movie we picked up a special order which I am not allowed to talk about because it isn't Christmas yet, but it's an awesome gift for us. We got home late and we made dinner: brussel sprouts baked in the oven with olive oil and balsamic vinegar sprinkled with salt and pepper; mashed potatoes with onions, garlic, and grated cheddar cheese; and steak. Yummy, juicy, market-fresh steak. We had a couple glasses of wine and watched 'Predator' before calling it a night.

The next day we went over to our friends' house. BG and I had planned to wear longjohns for the evening due the extreme temperature of their house. That way we would be comfortable without being overheated or naked, which apparently would have unacceptable. As soon as we walked in the house, we took off our pants and stayed in our longjohns for the night. No kidding. T&F had planned out the whole birthday dinner thing with the help of BG and R, so I was banished to the living room with a stock of frosty beverages and a couple of Vincent Price movies.

A couple hours and more than a few beverages later, I was summoned to the kitchen. I opened my awesome presents from them which included: F-made Hawkman and Hawkgirl squishy toys (yay!), a Hawkgirl statue, comics, and a zombie book. Birthday complete? Hell no, there was more. About 10 pounds more.

They made me a Jabba the Hutt out of meat. He sat on top of a bed of mashed potatoes that resembled sand, and his sidekick Salacious Crumb was nestled in his folds. Un-freaking-believable. And so very tasty. No wonder the Hutts died out: they are delicious! F made me a birthday cake that looked exactly like the Sarlacc Pit, complete with a trapped Boba Fett. I pulled him out by his feet and totally saved his life, so now Boba Fett owes me a life debt.

I had an awesome birthday full of good friends, great food, and the warmth of family. BG's family gave me gifts the following day at the family dinner, and his mother made my favourite pie: lemon merangue. I was not expecting that at all and it really floored me that they would do something like that.

I can't wait to see how Boba Fett is going to repay me.

Ahhh...There's The Other Shoe

I knew that sooner or later it would show up. I figured it would happen right around this time, too. Although I did encourage it, I still didn't think that it would hurt quite this much. I knew that I was in the wrong by staying quiet and not speaking what was in my heart, yet I still did it. I fully accept the blame for that yet I am still unsure of how it all seemed to get dropped into my lap. As far as I know, no matter who accepts how much of the blame, it still requires two people to make the situation in the first place.

I am in no way saying that I am not partially to blame; I think I covered that quite well in the preceding paragraph. I am merely stating that I am not to blame for all of it. I had to reread the response I received to an email I sent a couple of times before I was able to reply. So much of it hit home and was true yet there were parts that both shocked and offended me. In the end I managed to reply however I think I may have to dwell on this situation more before continuing. I thought that this person knew enough about me to have made a different assumption and now I am not sure how to proceed.

The past few months have been very confusing for me as I have had to navigate through various obstacles. Some obstacles were easily swatted away and others have hung on like barnacles. I had thought that I was able to deal with this situation now as I have had time to think. When I attempted to try and explain what has been happening inside my head and in my heart, I was rejected and informed of a slew of things that I had done to upset this other person.

Again, I am not shirking my responsibility here. I realize I should have made an effort to contact them sooner, but I couldn't. I honestly thought that they would recognize my silence and understand that I needed time to sort some things out and that didn't happen. That understanding was not there; whether I neglected to voice it or because they didn't recognize it doesn't matter.

I am upset because of all the people in the world, this one is the last one I ever thought would turn on me. Maybe I am exaggerating; maybe it isn't that bad but I've been sitting here reading the email over and over again and that's how it feels. It was pointed out to me that because we don't run in the same circles any betrayal of this person on my part would still be hidden and that floored me. The fact that that thought would even come up really upset me. Second time this week that someone has questioned my integrity.

I make mistakes. All the time. Sometimes, I make more than one mistake at a time. Through making mistakes I learn how other people think and I try to apply that knowledge when faced with similar situations. In this case, I misjudged badly and now I have to decide which path to take.

Where Did The Time Go, and How Can I Get it Back?

I am not going to the exam tonight. Not only do I have shitbuckets of work to do, which pays the rent and so is a bit more important than this course, I am really not prepared for it. I am not prepared to walk in and write a crappy exam just for the experience. There is too much that needs to be done in my office and I'd rather have a paycheque than a certificate of completion.

I just want my bed right now.

Either Too Stubborn or Just Too Damn Stupid

Although I have not attended class in over a month, I have decided to write the final exam next week. This is partly due to the fact that my teacher cannot assign me an incomplete mark; he can either pass me or fail me. I have decided that if I am going to fail, it will be because I attempted to write an exam that I wasn't quite prepared for and not because I gave up. I know, it sounds very Disney-ish but there you go. I have a bit of a different view of the world lately and it's kind of great.

I am finding that I am not quite so angry anymore. Things that used to set me off don't seem to bother me and I am much more tolerant of my current partner than I have been with others in the past. BG does things now that a year ago would made me molten with rage and I just smile and go about my business. Sure, I have stumbling blocks, 'quirks' as he calls them, however I find that because I am content I can finally let go of the anger that I've been carrying around for so long.

The drawback is that some of my former friends think I've lost my edge because of my new-found happiness. I think that's funny; I am much more capable of bitching someone out now that I have a firm foundation and someone behind me 100%. I don't have to worry about BG cheating on me or developing a drug habit as some of my former partners have done. Part of that is because he isn't like that and the other part is because he respects me. And he respects me because I respect myself. That's something that only comes after you've been through hell and lost everything. It's been a rough trip and a lot of people tried to hold me back but in the end I am just too stubborn to let it go after hearing that I can't do something.

Someone who used to be very close to me told me that I was much more fun to be around when I was miserable and bitter. She only wanted me around to make herself feel better because of what I was going through at the time. We would sit and talk about my situation and I stupidly thought that she actually wanted to help. Later, she would paraphrase our conversations to her friends and they would all shake their heads in sympathy, silently grateful that it wasn't happening to any of them. It just proves the point that misery loves company. I understand the concept of schadenfreude, I just don't think you should shove someone's nose in it. A bit of tact should be used.

I have so much on my plate right now: editing three magazines, my regular work, and my freelancing, that I just cannot spend time with negative people. I get enough of that at work, I don't need it when I go home or when I meet up with my friends. Although it does make for great writing fodder.