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Christmas 2014 xxx December 27, 2014

"The main reason Santa is so jolly is because he knows where all the bad girls live"
- George Carlin


Christmas 2014

12:44 PM

The past 3 or 4 Christmas' have been family-free for me.
The first 2 were great.
I was almost drunk with the holiday air and no whining family members around.
But, now, it's almost depressing.
I keep refreshing my Gmail hoping an email from either of my parents to appear.
I should know better.
People aren't just loving people all of a sudden.
To be fair, it is early in the States right now....
But, no, I need to break away.
Remind myself that I'M my OWN family now.
I need to find myself some little traditions or something.
Something besides crying- I do try and write every Christmas.
Today, I am going to spend with Chloe LaRayne and Canada, who aren't with their family this year as well.
Last night, Christmas Eve, was great actually.
Chloe and Ruby Dread came over.
We were Merry; had drinks, smoked endless spliffs and took some photos.
We watched 'A Christmas Story' and Chloe made is drink every time they said 'Christmas'.
But- today, Chloe should be here soon, so I'm going to smoke some weed and watch 'Seinfeld'.


2:09 AM

Now that Valium, countless spliffs, memosas and some other mind altering juices are flowing through me, Christmas is ending on quite a good note.
Watching some 'Seinfeld' earlier this afternoon; and indulging in a banana, peanut butter, Nutella and ice cream milkshake, I had Chloe and Canada come over.

They showed up swaying from their Christmas cocktail of mushrooms, Valium, pills, rum and weed.
We nested up in my finally finished beautiful stoner bedroom, watching trippy music videos on my new X-mas TV.
Since they were more indulged in drugs, I decided to make a nice x-mas waffle breakfast for everyone.
It was nice to be around people who were alone like me for Christmas, but my cloud from earlier remained.
I found my eyes tearing easily and having to excuse myself.
When I failed my first batch of waffle batter, I broke down.
This may be too personal-- but, my mother is in a coma and on life support.
She has been for the past month.
Unfortunately, my mother and I hadn't been on speaking terms for months.
Since I've found out- I've been acting like I don't care....
When really I keep wondering if these were really our last years and conversations.
Even with all these thoughts; there's still so much I don't forgive her for-
Which prevents me from initiating contact.
So this Christmas, 2014, has had no family emails, definitely no calls and skyping is a far away fantasy.
I've had numerous pep talks with myself today, reminding myself of my independence.
But, I can't help but hate and be jealous of everyone.
Avoiding Facebook and Instagram is a MUST at this time!

As the drugs took full effect on Canada and Chloe, we agreed on a quick power nap at 5:30pm.
I even dozed off for half an hour watching 'Black Dynamite'.
Their power nap ended up being a 3 hour nap- but they looked so peaceful- I couldn't disturb.
I felt weird watching them sleep for a moment.
But- just so glad not to be alone.
I tend to be mean to people around this time of year;
Especially to people with big loving families,
It's hard even when Chloe gets a nice photo or Skype from a family member.
I'm so happy for her; but frustrated with myself.
After the nap, we shuffled our way over to Canada's;
Popped more Valium, re-upped on weed and made an amazing dinner.
Throughout the night; each of us had our own individual quiet and sad moment.
It's hard to console; because understanding what they feel to a degree-
Not much can make them feel better.
Last of us valiumed up, started to feel tired so Canada went to bed and Chloe and I back to mine.


And now, laying in bed next to a sleeping Chloe, I find myself reminiscing on past Christmas'.
Back in the day, my father would take my brother, mother and I to New York City.
Always staying at the U.N. Plaza.
Spending x-mas eve going to Rockafeller Center then to China Town for greasy Chinese or Vietnamese dinner.
My father and mother always drink and smoking dragging us to their old hang out locations.
Since they lived in NYC for almost 8 years.
Some years for Christmas my mom would be having a sober streak and would venture on her own to midnight mass;
While my father would take us to Harlem- joking  about being mugged- but scaring my brother and I.
He'd get drunker and drunker- but my father is a happy and fun drunk.
We'd  return  to the hotel where he'd sneak us into the closed pool area.
He made everything so daring and exciting.
He never seemed to care about getting caught.
A few times he would make us dine and dash- having us run to the car and peel away;
All the while laughing to himself.
Yeah.... NYC was definitely a tradition.
Of course, some years I spent with boyfriends, or them joining us (which was the perfect opportunity to prove their insane behavior).
When I was younger my fathers drunken confidence, was just that- confidence.
But, the last Christmas I was home he decided to rent an over priced, un-affordable car and drive us to NYC.
My mother, who now lives in a separate part of the farm;
Refused to be near my father.
This meant it would be just me, my brother and our always increasingly drunk father.

It started badly once we arrived in NYC.
My father failed to find a parking spot on 34th street.
There was a bunch of Christmas Trees for sale lined up on the sidewalk and street;
And my father decides to pull the car through the trees and up on the curb.
Literally.

Years before I would have freaked out with embarrassment and his lack their of.
But, I now have come to terms with I'm a lot like my father, more than I'd like to admit.
We then joined my godmother (an amazing activist) and went for our traditional Chinese meal.
My godmother invited some of her friends to meet us there,
She should have known better.
Upon being seated, my dad instantly had the chopsticks hanging down out of his mouth like walrus tusks.
He continued to inappropriately talk to the waiter as if they were his new best friend.
Anyone at the table who appears smarter than him;
He talks over them or puts them down.
Once the bill is paid, I grab him by his arm and guide him out onto the cold Manhattan streets.
I'm not angry or annoyed- well I am- but I'm acting friendly and laughing at his jokes.
Better I suffer than those innocent people.
My drunken father decides to spontaneously buy cocaine.
Outside this restaurant, waiting for the remainder of our party to exit.
My father approaches the first black man he sees and asks if he has some blow.
I should have stop him, but I couldn't believe it.
This black man, rightfully so, freaks out in disgust.
"HOW DARE YOU JUST ASSUME I SELL COCAINE BECAUSE IM BLACK! FUCK YOU MAN!" He begins to shout.
The tone of his voice makes me grab my dads arm again to pull him away.
This time I am angry.
My dad attempts to yell back, but I cut him off and apologize over my shoulder as we quickly walk
the opposite way.


Up ahead I see the remainder of our dinner party and as I attempt to give them crazy eyes and use hand signals telling them to walk away.
They don't see me.
The upset man is still yelling down the street, making the others curiously ask what was happening.
My father didn't hesitate to tell the story but exaggerate certain parts, as he often does.
When we finally returned to our hotel, I was so relieved to not have to babysit him-
Until he announced he wanted to go out and KNEW he could get us into a bar.
NO FUCKING WAY.
My brother took that adventure with him, and apparently was able to sneak my brother in.

Writing that story, as odd as it is, made me smile and be grateful for memories like that.
The fact that my father hasn't emailed, called or skyped by this time is.... I'm embarrassed to admit- heartbreaking.
At least my mother has a coma to blame, even if we aren't speaking.

Ultimately, I'm glad I at least have the positive and independent relationship with myself that I do have.
These are still my first Christmas' getting used to it.
I have yet to discover my own traditions, besides writing.
I have some pretty awesome ideas for next Christmas.

"Anybody who acted happy on Christmas was lying- even the ones who were get paid $500 an hour... The Jews were especially sulky, and who could blame them? The birthday of Baby Jesus is always a nervous time for people who know that ninety days later they will be accused of murdering him."
- Hunter S. Thompson

"There are some people who want to throw their arms around you simply because it's Christmas, there are other people who want to strangle you simply because it's Christmas."