Christmas Time is Here....

Watch Christmas Vacation? Check.  Watch A Christmas Story multiple times during the 24-hour marathon? Check. Watch A Christmas Carol starring George C. Scott? Check. Make out with Rachel McAdams under the Mistletoe? A gentlemen never tells.

 

(Wait… WHAT???)

 

Just seeing if you were paying attention. While all of those tasks were on my Christmas list, sadly I was only able to complete three of the four. Each of the aforementioned films is a staple of my holiday season, and yes I can quote directly from each on demand. There's something to be said for tradition. Although, in recent years past, tradition has basically told me to kiss its silver bells sideways.

 

(That's, um, what does that mean, exactly?)

 

It means that the changing landscape of my life has rendered tradition a thing of the past. Let's face it; two years ago I was wandering around Washington DC by myself in blissfully mournful solitude. Last year I enjoyed the dulcet tones of someone puking up too much Christmas cheer in a hospital bed on the other side of the curtain from me whilst I struggled to breathe my way through another crappy Christmas. Add to that the fact that my family is one affected on all fronts by divorce, and thus Merry Christmas becomes "Ok who's going where and when and seeing whom on what day and at what time and for the love of sweet bejeebus who's bringing the booze?"

 

(Hallelujah, holy sh*t! Where's the Tylenol?)

 

Exactly. Now don't get me wrong. I love my family. I love my friends. And frankly, Christmas day wasn't as bad as I expected. I have my own ghosts of Christmas past, and they're right bast*rds, those ghosts. I think I, like many, walk a thin line when it comes to Christmas. There's that part of you that wants to do nothing, see no one, and stay home, under a blanket and watch movies all day long without ever changing out of your pajamas. But then, if you do that, you feel bad for and about yourself and wish you were out with friends and family reveling in the day's delight. And that you would have showered sooner, because you still smell like the alcohol and pigs-in-a-blanket that you consumed in mass quantities the night before to the point that the dog won't stop licking you just to get a contact high from the whisky and pork pouring out of your pores.

 

(Dude….)

 

Shut up. Don't judge me. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Christmas has officially lost some of its yuletide luster for me. Gone are the days of family togethernessness. Gone are quiet Christmas mornings and lazy Christmas afternoons. Now, I realize this is a personal affliction, but I suspect that many of you who are divorced, separated, single, or are the product of a family suffering the same fates, get what I'm saying.

 

(Totally. Dammit.)

 

Yeah, I know. It sucks. But, at the same time, it ain't so bad, either. After dinner with the family, I received a text from a dear old friend asking if I'd like to spend time together Christmas evening. I obliged, and it was a wonderful way to end what would otherwise have been my typically depressing, stressful, and painful holiday. I even got myself some presents!

 

(Please tell me you didn't wrap them….)

 

I'm not that pathetic, but thanks for thinking so.

 

(Well, you mentioned it.)

 

Touché, pussycat. Anywhoos. It could have been worse, I suppose. I could have been hospitalized again. I could have been unemployed, injured or truly alone. I was none of the above. Well, except for injured. I did stub my pinky toe on the corner of the TV cabinet when the dog ran in front of me with her farting snowman.

 

(Okay, ow, and farting snowman?)

 

You know what I'm talking about. A squeaky toy that doesn't squeak but makes this sound like either a duck quacking with a smoker's cough or when your drunk Uncle Al tells you to pull his finger.

 

(Gross, but we get it, thanks….)

 

You asked.

 

(My bad.)

 

I guess my point is that even when it sucks, it's not so bad. At the end of the day I went home and stared at the twinkling lights of my little Christmas tree, and the small pile of presents beneath, and was thankful for the gifts, tangible or otherwise, I'd received. Those gifts included the love of my family and friends, and a pound and a half of Swedish Fish.

 

(Score!)

 

Right?? Somebody loves me. Actually, many people love me. That wasn't lost on me despite my bah humbugginess. I do appreciate those that love me so much, and I love them right back. Even the funny-looking ones.

 

(Hey!)

 

*snicker* Oh lighten up, Francis. You know I'm joking. Look, I know I can't make it through this time of year without you. Thank you. I mean it, truly. This year I added to my movie viewing list White Christmas, the Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye classic. That, my friends, is what Christmas is all about. Old friends, rallying together, for one another and for others, to ensure that those around them have a good Christmas and are reminded that they're not alone. I know others did that for me, and I like to think that the act was reciprocal on my part. Without each other, we're nothing, and I know I'm not nothing, so neither are you. So, with that, I guess there's nothing left to do but….

 

*

*

*

 

(But? But what?)

 

Well, since you asked….

 

(WAIT! I didn't mean to ask! I take it back!)

 

Too late!

 

(Oh crap on a cracker….)

 

It's time to sing! It's a marshmallow world in the winter….

 

(When the snow comes to cover the grou… Sonofab*tch. I don't care if it's Christmas time. I hate you.)

 

I know. So, what are you doing New Year's Eve?

 

 

© 2012 J.J. Goodman. All rights reserved.