11:12 pm. i forgot to mention that i'm going craaaaazy. 15 more hours...only 15 more hours...
If you're having a lovely Christmas, don't read this. I'm bitter, and I'm letting it all out. Seriously, unless you're having a bitter Christmas too, stop now, I'm just venting.
Ok, so I almost didn't go home for Christmas, and then I felt guilty that my mom would have a shitty Christmas if I didn't come here for at least a couple days, so I gave in. It all seemed like a good idea through the dinner parties the last few nights, putting out the presents, and all that. And then, this morning, I remembered why coming home for Christmas was a bad idea. I remembered what Christmas is and always will be like at my house...
I got up, was just about to get in the shower when I hear the shower in the other bathroom turn on. My dad has shotgunned the shower. Fine, I think. I'll take a shower after we open the presents. Now I'm groggy, and less pleasant than I would have been with the shower. Whatever, I get some food and go sit in the living room, my mom wanders in. After a few minutes, my dad wanders downstairs, annoyed that we have to go through this all again.
We all open presents. My dad likes the pants my mom got him, and the candy I brought from Vancouver. My mom likes the chocolates, and the nice bracelet I got her. My mom got me a bunch of books, some spices for cooking, a necklace, and a few other things. The best, I guess was a USB stick. Mostly what I asked for. Then we're done. My dad's like 'oh, I didn't get you anything.' Big surprise, and yet possibly the first time I can remember that he really hasn't gotten either of us anything. He's like 'I didn't know what to get.' Then he goes into his yearly, 'I try to be a good father, I really try' schpiel. Bull. Shit.
When did he try? Did he try by not getting any Christmas presents? Did he try by not coming to my graduation, just because he didn't want the hassle? In the past year, he has not called or emailed me once. I bet he couldn't tell you what the names of one of my friends other than Scott are. I bet he has no idea what I did this past semester. I bet he has no idea what I'm doing next semester.
Yeah, sounds like he tried really hard. And this is how it is every Christmas. And then he says, 'you know that I'm trying, right?' and I choose not to answer, because I think it's nicer than saying what I really think. And this is why I didn't want to come home for Christmas. It really wasn't worth having to show the security guards at the airport my belt buckle, and explain why I had a thermos full of tabouli. Apparently foreign foods make you a terrorist.
Whatever, I'm leaving tomorrow, and thank God for that. Hope you all had a better Christmas than me.
Bitterly yours,
M.