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Why I'm Cancelling Christmas
This year, I've decided to cancel Christmas. I won't be buying any presents, and I won't accept presents either*. Sure, I'll have a Christmas lunch with my family, because I have to, and I may even say "Merry Christmas"** once or twice, but I won't be celebrating like most people do.
There could be many reasons for this decision. I may have suddenly become religious, and sworn my faith to Budda. It could be that I am going to donate what I would have spent to charity. Perhaps I am going on holiday over the Christmas period, and am flying across the dateline so I miss out on December the 25th. But no, these aren't the reasons.
Christmas makes me physically and mentally ill.
I don't truck with the Yuletide spirit, Christmas carols, mistletoe and Santa Claus. What the hell is this all about? A drink made out of eggs? Excessive joy on one day of the year, when everyone knows that Christmas time is stressful? Songs that use annoying instruments such as bells, and sing about a deer with a red nose? A spiky little plant that gives dirty, old men a "reason" to snog you? A big, fat, jolly***, bearded man wearing a funny suit and a hat who has elves make the toys? Elves? ELVES? Did someone put acid in that funny egg drink of yours?
Nod with me, because you know I'm right.
Everyone expects Christmas to be happy and lovely and jolly, but it just never goes according to plan. What should happen, is I go to my parents for Christmas, everyone is all happy, we have a lovely dinner, we open some presents and I always get things I want, we drink some wine, I get merry, I go home and have sex.
This is not how Christmas happens at my house.
I wake late. I rush to get ready to go to my parent’s house, because they expected me to arrive in the morning, and it's already 12.30pm and I haven't showered. I shower fast, and forget to apply deodorant. I arrive at my parents house an hour late, and dinner still isn't ready, even though my Mum, Dad and sister have all left 4 messages each on my answering machine asking how long I will be and telling me that I'll miss out on Christmas lunch. My Nana and my Mother are running around like chicken without heads, screaming, "The yams are going to burn! The yams!". My sister is sulking in her room moaning about how hungry she is, but won't help set the table. My Dad has been on the toilet for 2 hours taking a shit and I really need to pee.
I pee on the lemon tree. It helps it grow, you know.
We eventually get lunch, the meat is getting cold and I'm sure I'm going to food poisoning when my Mother puts it in the microwave to heat it up. It tastes nice though, so that's okay. We open presents and my sister yells at everyone, because she likes the mirror my Mum bought me better than the mirror she received. I say, "Sssshh" a lot. I drink the non-alcoholic bubbly grape juice that my family likes so much, and wish that I'd bought some of the hard liquor. We leave a lot of ripped wrapping paper on the carpet. My Mum cleans this up, then washes the dishes and my Nana helps. I sit in "my" chair in the lounge and watch the same Christmas movie that was on last year - Home Alone 2 or Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I go home with my new Christmas underwear and my new Christmas bath salts, I masturbate and then I go to sleep.
But that isn't the reason I've cancelled Christmas.
I'm going to take all the money I would have spent on buying presents, and I'm going to spend it on myself. Do you know why? Because one can never have enough shoes. I'm cancelling Christmas for shoes. And maybe a new vibrator.
No more Christmas carols for me, I'm buying batteries this year.
* Oh, maybe I will. |