Its beginning to look a lot like Kill Me
Christmas. Nothing spawns so much anger and hatred for mankind than the one day of the year where im forced to shut my mouth about how much i hate things, mostly because im outnumbered by happy people that would like to delightfully bludgeon me to death with a leg of ham if i pissed them off.
When i was younger, i used to spend christmas at either of my separated parents places, then spend the next day, or day before at the others. The whole "YOU GET TWO CHRISTMAS' ?! YOU'RE SO LUCKY!!" cries from the other kids at school, has no lustre when its because you have a two fucking families who are just as poor as the other. Nice one jerks, and you wonder why i used to push you over and get into fights? Thats right. Hardcore bully.
In the tween years, one side of my family liked to spend christmas in the middle of nowhere in the countryside to visit another side of the family. They're nice people and put on a good spread, but I always felt like an outsider at those gatherings. It probably didn't help that i had browner skin, looked more asian than caucasian and spoke with a thick New Zealand accent.
The bush. Its just that fucking boring.
Having the ridiculous rebellious anti-establishment streak (read: i was a basement dwelling computer nerd) in my teen years, it stopped me from taking the continual trips to the middle of nowhere bush towns and have christmas my own way.
There's two distinct christmas' that I remember.
The first being when i was about 17, I told my family that I would not be going to the bush with them and would like to spend it on my own. The faces of horror that were given was more akin to if I had shat my pants and said that i made "boom boom". After the initial shock wore off, it was greeted with yelling then relent. Honestly, I did it because I didn't want to get up at 7am, instead, at 11am or even 12pm, rather than any anti-christmas sentiment.
Christmas was spent with me making my own roast chicken, potatoes and salads and it was completely quiet in my house. The most amazing christmas ever. Spent alone and happy.
The second Christmas that I remember was my first one after leaving home at 20. My family were heading into the bush again and this time, being that i was poor and had no money and thus, no food, said that i would love to join my family on the condition that i didnt have to catch a ride with them at 7am, instead, getting the only outgoing train from the city at 10am.
I had everything planned, no food in the house, head to the city with the money my dad gave me for a taxi and a train ticket, get there, eat, steal left overs to last a month, home by 5pm to watch spongebob. Like a theif in the night.
What i didnt count on was that my taxi was 20 minutes late in picking me up AND the driver didnt know what MAJOR train station that i was talking about. As in, one of the 5 major stations in the city and the ONLY train station to have outgoing trains. I had to give him directions to the platform and when i got there, i'd missed the train by 3 fucking minutes.
3 MINUTES. YOU FUCK.
I had little money, but honestly, i had no food in the house to have my own christmas. I called my folks who were disappointed but understood that there was nothing i could do, so i caught public transport home again. Much to my surprise, i found THE ONLY place in Melbourne still open on christmas day. A chicken shop. As i opened the door of the store, the bell rang and an angel got its wings.
So after making out like a bandit with $30 worth of chicken, i walked back to my flat and feasted while laughing at the Latin Dancesport championships.
It was a christmas freaking miracle.
I started my own traditions about 5 years back. Now, every year on the 25th day of december, after visiting the family, i would come home and watch a dvd of one of my favourite movies, Holiday Inn. Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. Its a famous one that gave the world WHITE CHRISTMAS and got into trouble in later years for having a black face routine. This carried on year after year after year.
Adding to the mix, about 3 years ago, we started having Christmas Eve drinks at one of the bars in the city. So every Christmas Eve, we drink there and toast our fallen comrades.
Because, lets face it, you're going to need a drink to prepare for the torture of the next day.
-Rick
