So, I don't celebrate Christmas really. Mostly because I'm not Christian. I know, I know, technically/intellectually speaking, Christmas has nothing to do with Jesus, but that's not really the point. The Christians believe it's their holiday and as such, it has almost no meaning to me. Let's not even get started on the pagans and their suggestion of holiday-theft with all that Yule bullshit. How can you ever hijack a holiday? Seriously. If you figure it out, I'm going to hijack Easter next year and claim it as my own, we'll see how it works out. Wow, that was a whole lot of off-topic chatter. If this were a podcast, you'd be grumpy by now, wondering when the actual on-topic declarations would begin. Anyway, despite not finding purpose in Christmas and its imaginary meaning to my friends and family, I routinely find myself invited to attend parties and celebrations which I would rather not deal with. I'm stuck in this weird place right now, where familial traditions are being forced upon me, and all I want to do is create my own traditions. I suppose it doesn't help when you consider that this is my first Christmas alone since I came out, in high school. I didn't think it would hurt so much. That's not what this is about though. This particular post is actually about the celebrations I had.
The first was a two-parter down in Midtown at Ayn Dahkle's house, then again at Robin Ann's house. I attended both with Ms. Katrina West, and attended the second portion with her boyfriend, Chris in tow. The first half was a wonderfully intellectual gift-exchange and potluck with Ms. Ayn Dahlke which had some of the best ham I've ever eaten, and the absolute best gift exchange experience evar.That was followed by a birthday celebration across the street on the following night which happened to be a Masquerade. I love Masquerades. Have I mentioned that? If you didn't know the origins of this blog, lie in our Memorial Day Weekend Masquerade Ball. It is a rare catharsis that washes over me when I am in a costume. It's so refreshing to wear the clothes of somebody else and be a new, different person for a brief period of time. I swear it has nothing to do with a secret crush on Tuxedo Mask in junior high and high school. I really enjoyed this Christmas celebration. Mostly because it had almost nothing to do with Christmas, and everything to do with being with friends in a relaxed, dressed-up setting. I swear those two terms aren't contradictory.
Things continued on Christmas Eve with a trip to my grandmother's house for our annual gift-exchange. I don't like going to the gift-exchange. I never get anything that really moves me to tears like I did when I was a child. I think it's because in my youth, my parents and grand-parents had a closer connection with me, and understood my passions a lot better. The other big reason I don't like going to the gift-exchange is that I don't buy presents for people. I usually throw together Christmas gifts at the last minute. I laugh it off and act like it's not a big deal, but really, I feel like a freeloader in most cases. It's rough on me because of the choices I've made religiously and socially. On the same token, I always feel like a dickhead when it's time for me to leave and I have to make excuses for my family. It's just obnoxious because I never really want to stay for longer than necessary and I always feel like I'm imposing myself upon the family on the night before Christmas. Sometimes, I just want to create my own traditions.
Anyway, back to the blog post. Third Christmas had to be the best Christmas. Katrina, Chris and I all woke up at 11 in the morning, and sat in the living room in our jimjams. We read aloud from the Goosebumps Choose Your Own Adventures book I have. This is actually an older tradition of mine and Katrina's that we finally decided to include another person in. This summer, when we were sick, we laid on my bed and read CYOA stories and loved every moment of it. It was a great chance for us to prove that we can't have friends. Chris didn't seem to completely hate every moment of it, so it must have been at least a little bit fun and interesting. Anywho, It was probably the best part of the holiday celebrations because it gave me a chance to create my own traditions and spend time with my friends on a day that is supposed to be about friendship, love and joviality.
That was quickly counteracted by my final holiday celebration. I spent the entire afternoon at my grandmother's house waiting to go home. It's not like I hate being at my grandparent's house, and it's not like I don't love spending time with my family, but lately, I feel like an outsider around my family. I get harassed every time I see them, and it annoys the shit out of me. If it isn't my hair, or my weight, or my clothes, or where I live, or my job, it's something else. Realistically, it's just plain outrageous how my family interacts with each other. I inevitably get distracted, then defensive, then angry, then aggressive. When it boils down to it, it just becomes an unpleasant situation altogether. I ended up going home with Katrina and spending the evening with laughable television and frustrating computer issues before crashing at crazy o'clock at night well after the holiday itself had wrapped up.
After starting this blog, and discussing the holiday with Kaka, I realized that I'm not going to be satisfied until I spend the holiday acting like a Jew and spending the whole day eating Chinese food and reading Goosebumps with the people who matter to me. Maybe one day, my family can be a part of my Goosebumps tradition. Who knows.
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