thanksgiving hasn't even happened yet and my holiday stress is upon me. this more than unpleasant feeling can only be likened to the feeling i imagine santa gets when an obese american child plops down on his lap at an overcrowded mall on a saturday afternoon. first comes the dread of what you see approaching, than the realization that you are powerless to stop it from happening, and finally the acceptance that it is going to hurt and alcohol is the only thing that's going to get you through.
this is the holidays with my family. not my chosen family of course, but the others. the ones that hang like an albatross around my neck. my parents divorced about 12 years ago or so. i was an adult by then, unfortunately they were not. they squabble and pout about whose house who is going to spend what time at for the holidays. "well if you are here for 4 hours, than must go there for 4 hours too." i can feel my ulcer churning.
you often hear the phrase "the true spirit of christmas" around this time of the year. what the hell does that mean? can someone please clue me in? because all i can see are ipods, credit card debt, weight gain, and the aforementioned alcohol. not to mention my favorite of all holiday games, "who will have a blow out this year" also known as, "family feud- the holiday edition". who will it be? ma and pa? i don't think so, to obvious. bro and sis? possibly. ma and me? well, that's a given. dad and everyone? duh. evil stepwhore and the gay dentist? fingers crossed! the anticipation is killing me! seriously, i think it might actually be killing me.
last year we fled this isle of misfit toys and vacationed in NYC. it was a glorious reprieve from the madness. the realization that my reprieve is long gone is finally setting in. with the economy crashing around us we will be spending our holidays in a balmy little place i call hell. the airfare is cheap, but the hidden fees are a bitch.
some of you might call me a scrooge. you'd be wrong, but you might be thinking it. obviously you didn't grow up in a family like mine, lucky you. count your blessings and put on your sequined holiday sweater. stop reading this blog and go to Jc-fucking-penney's to get your family holiday card photo taken. go! do it! gather around the fireplace and tell your family stories from yor or wherever you are from. because in my family this is the truth. and i'm not going to wear a shiny outfit, plaster a fake smile on my face for pictures, and compliment people on food that has a saturated fat content of 110% due to the heavy use of lard and velveeta. i'm not going to pretend that i really deep dpwn wanted a gift certificate to the dress barn. i'm not going to concede that a few hours spent near a well decorated tree make everything that is broken all better. i do not have the constitution to ignore the goddamn elephant(s) in the room. what i can do is introduce the elephant. "hello elephant. meet my family. family, elephant. can i get you some cheese covered cheese balls dipped in meat? how about a side of liquid sugary fat to drink? how about it elephant, do you feel lucky, punk?"
merry fucking christmas.
Time passeth.
4 years ago
1 comment:
Damn girl, that's intense. If you need someone to share a sip of holiday alcohol and process the season, give me a call. Although the family aspect is not a concern for me (not that we're perfect, but I find the elephants amusing for the most part), that is not to say that this Holiday isn't loaded in other ways that I refuse to blog about.
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