Bah. Humbug.

I'm not feeling particularly Christmassy this year.

Truth: I've been feeling kind of down in the dumps since I've been home. Sure, things are fine and well over here; I'm getting fairly pampered and am generally well taken care of, but something about this place just makes me uneasy and listless. It's unfair to M-town, but I'm remembering the more yucky things I associate with this place than the good so coming back here is never highly anticipated.

Living with the parental and sibling units again is proving to be almost as tiring as I remember it. There's too much clashing and loud noise in this house. There are constantly things that need to be done and 4 different schedules and 2 cars to fit them into. Add to that the fact that I'm not used to other people trying to schedule my day for me and although I can understand their good intentions, it can get to be a bit much. Yes I like massages, No I do not like waiting in the parking lot for 45 minutes for my parents to pick me up. My place in the Loo is quiet and calm, except for when the roomie and I get silly and yell things to each other down the hall. I can do what I want over there. Here, I found myself frustrated to tears yesterday morning due to a silly miscommunication and I couldn't believe it. Maybe it's just PMS. Damn womanhood.

Truth: This is my first Christmas without a boyfriend in three years. Okay, so that sounds kind of juvenile and dumb, but all I'm really saying is that I'm used to doing holiday couple things like cuddling up with someone to watch Christmas movies and getting super excited about getting/making their gift and wondering what they got/made me. I liked getting dressed up to go to holiday thingies together and going present shopping together. I liked giving gifts to their parents and siblings. For three years, there's been someone to kiss at midnight on New Year's. I got used to and liked, no no, I loved all of that.

But alas. Not this year.

All I can think about right now is that episode of Friends, when Chandler scares off the guy Rachel is seeing and she says something along the lines of, "Now I'm alone and being alone sucks." I can't remember what the other twenty-odd minutes are about, but that line makes me laugh a bit every time I hear it in my head. It's true though, being alone does kind of suck, especially at this time of year. If you pay attention, you'll see that nearly everything that has to do with the holidays is about love and some significant other and "all I want for Christmas is you"s. You know what Mariah? Thanks but no thanks, I've had enough.

Even winter is all about keeping warm. I, however, will skip on the shared mitts and big coats that can fit two people and cuddling by the fire or the TV or cuddling in general. I've got my knee socks and my mum's old sweater and an Ibex blanket and a mug of My Very Own Candycane Hot Chocolate with extra candycanes thankyouverymuch.

(And this is where I soften like butter that's been sitting out on the kitchen counter for too long.)

For Christmas, I'd like to be able to say that my boyfriend is going to be in Antarctica. But no, although he is going to be down there, he's someone else's boyfriend now and that sounds much too pathetic for me to actually wish out loud. That does sound too pathetic, right? Yeah, it does. Scratch that.

For Christmas, I'd like to be able to say that my boyfriend is going to be in Antarctica.

Oh who am I kidding, I have no Christmas wish. It won't come true anyway.

Chocolate isn't even helping. There's this sitting in the fridge right now:



...and no, it does nothing for me. It's a chocolate cake covered in chocolate icing covered in pecans, M&Ms and marshmallows for crying out loud. Nope. Nothing. My brother and his girlfriend made it. Sigh. How lovely and domestic and in love of them to do so. For our big family dinner tomorrow, there's going to be 13 people here for it. I am, literally, the odd one out. There's two husband-wife couples, three boy-girlfriend couples, and my cousins come as a pair simply because they're brothers. I, come alone.

Okay, so this is where I try to stop myself from becoming more of a bitter, old maid than I already am. For Christmas, instead of sending me well wishes and all that, just send me a good, hard, old fashioned slap in the face. Now there's something that'll do me some good.
10:25 pm