The Big C

A Vintage Post, retrieved from Scrubbed Innocence

Every year, I say 'NEXT year I'm REALLY converting to Hanukkah.' As my friend B.W. rightly observed, the only people who can truly enjoy Christmas are the Jews.

But why is that? I once enjoyed the hell out of Christmas, back when I didn't have to worry about who to invite or not invite, who has what food allergies, who should sit next to whom, what gifts to get for people I don't know, being polite to so and so and making sure so and so is polite to that other so and so, taking photographs, setting the table properly, and ensuring that everyone is having a GREAT time while also themselves being mindful of all of these things. Once, all I had to worry about was waiting an appropriate amount of time between opening each present, so that it didn't seem that I was ungratefully rushing, though of course I was.

Oddly now, the Christmas tradition I most want to do away with is the gratuitous gift giving. The practice has become so grave. 'Something for everyone' usually results in a lot of little crap, with little meaning. I would much rather have nothing than have meaninglessness. Ha. Ha ha. What a grinch. But I absolutely appreciate the GESTURE of gift giving, I do, though as an opportunity for connection, the custom usually falls short. How about a game of Scrabble?

This Christmas was all things Christmas could possibly be. Joyful, frustrating, hectic, relaxed, emotional, tense, easy, pained, delicious, bitter, sweet, kind, friendly, polite, and memorable. I spent a week with a family not my own, all people I enjoy, though with only one intimate link, and so I was in that unique position of being an outsider with an insider view but not quite comfortable participating in a familiar way. Whereas with my own family, I am sensitive to our particular tensions and histories and can respond as I please (e.g. "Keep your crusty twat away from my cookies and stop talking about your fucking jerk boyfriend; you're ruining Christmas!"), in this unfamiliar setting I could only float and sway with the currents. And I was pretty sure I couldn't say "fuck" as much as I pleased. And that's always hard for me. AND I was in a PMDD hell dimension, which made everything worse and, according to the hell dimension, probably my fault. SO all in all it was an emotional riot. Everyone came out alive, but, of course, tears were shed, and so the baby Jesus was vindicated.

Cut the gifts. That's how this Grinch would save Christmas. Let's get drunk and play Catch the Gizzard!