Post Christmas Lamentations

Well, maybe not so much “lamentation” as “realization”.

Christmastime- a spiritual time to gather ‘round those you love to share reflections on the previous year and visions for the coming year. A time for great food, laughter and all things sentimental. A time to recognize and express appreciation for those special people in your life and the little things they do.

Unless you’re one of the freaks in my husband’s family, that is.

Now to the “lamentation” part…

Our decision to ”opt out” of Christmas this year didn’t quite work as hoped and expected. We managed to hide from the majority of it but were still sucked into a little of this and a little of that. A little of “this” consisted of coworkers cramming the holly jolly spirit down my throat (much to my surprise, it tastes like chicken). A little of “that” consisted of D’s family.

As I sat in my sister-in-law’s living room staring at her “fireplace”- which was actually her T.V. with a continuous shot of burning logs in a fireplace (no, I’m not shitting you) - attempting to finger what that mystery odor (funk) was and where it was coming from- I listened to her and D’s mother argue over whether or not the queen satin sheets my mother-in-law bought from Big Lots and wrapped with care would fit on my sister-in-law’s full bed. I realized something….These people are rejects from the short bus circus.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to be mean here, I’m just sharing a revelation; I married into the granddaddy of all freak shows. Yes, I’ve always known this bit of information to some degree but nothing quite sends the message home loud and clear like a family gathering at the holiday’s.

I guess I can be grateful that my MIL didn’t ask when D and I would make her a grandmother (even though D’s sister has 3 kids). However, anticipating the question would be asked (for the 8 millionth time) I did have a pre-scripted answer (I was a little depressed that I didn‘t get to use it):

“M, as you know your son and I as of January 1st will have been married for 9 years-combining that with the 2 years we dated, we’ve been together for 11. Eleven, that’s your answer. If D and I haven’t had children in the last eleven years, what in the hell makes you think we’re going to start now? I know inevitably you’re next question would be ‘Why?’ Well M, it’s because I’m scared. In the last 11 years I’ve carefully observed the family dynamics going on here and to be quite honest- I’m terrified of the freak gene. Yes, you heard me, the freak gene. Do you remember 4 or 5 years ago at Christmas when you tried starting a fight with me over my decision to not jump right into having children and your heartbreak over not being able to baby sit these imaginary grandchildren you dreamt up? Remember what I said? Here, let me refresh your memory- I said ‘I’d rather leave my children to be baby sat by a pack of rabid dogs than you‘. M, I wasn’t trying to be a bitch, I meant that and still do.“

Now all of this may come off as cruel or mean to you, the reader. You must understand that D’s family has to be seen to be believed and even then you might not believe it. Plus, if I wanted to be mean or cruel I’d call my MIL and tell her what Santa brought me for Christmas…my period.

Until I get confirmation from at least three specialists that D does not harbor the freak gene within his seed, this uterus will remain barren.

So aside from our semi failed attempt at dodging Christmas this year I can happily report I’ve not had a breakdown. Yet.

Other exciting steamers on the plate…I’ve started taking Chantix for smoking cessation (this makes for an interesting future post), I think my brother is in town, D is currently dealing with major medical issues, Birthday high jinks, Pictures to share - etc. etc. etc. More on all of that in the coming days. As of now, I’ve got to go to work. Yay.

I hope everyone out there in bloggerland and those of you who read my crappy little page here had a wonderful Christmas. And if you didn't, I hope it was at least interesting and you can find the humor in it.

A day of infamy? Hardly!

Twenty eight years ago today at this very moment, 7:10am Lil' Aza clawed her way out of the womb and was hurled into the world like an obscenity-spewing cannonball. How should those around me pay homage and express their undying gratitude for every breath I take, you ask? Being the ever humble person I am, all I ask for is a position of dictatorship. I know, I know… you’re shocked that I’d ask for so little considering I’ve contributed so much to the world. That’s just another amazing quality I exude…modesty.

Oh sure, there are some that would say my earth coming was the outcome of an unholy satanic rite. But they’re just being dramatic- a result of having watched The Omen one too many times.

Why are the following pictures so flippin’ funny?

Well, for the following reasons…

1/ (and I stress this as being the most important) I’m sick in the head.
2/ Those are D’s feet.
3/ D is sound asleep (in fact, he’s snoozing away as I post this).
4/ That’s a damn good paint job considering the room is dark and I only had the light on long enough to snap some pictures with my phone and not during the actual paint job itself.
5/ He won’t notice his toes until 10 minutes till he’s due to work later today.
6/ Ya can’t go wrong in any situation with “Emerald Green”.
7/ For some odd reason seeing toes polished on size thirteen feet makes me laugh,...really hard.
8/ Screwing with people while they're asleep is just plain funny.

Let’s face it, this list could go on forever so I’ll leave it at the “Top 8 Reasons These Pictures Are So Flippin’ Funny”. My shenanigans have me all tuckered out- I think I’ll go to bed now.

Creepy dreams, odd play lists and “opting out”

It doesn’t take a masters in psychology to know that stress tends to manifest in weird, sometimes disturbing ways. Such as dreams packed so full of symbolic imagery it makes the dream sequences in the film Twin Peaks appear simple, sane and normal or compulsively (and obsessively) listening to the same three songs over and over and over and over and over (ad infinitum) again.

“Overkill” by Colin Hay (the acoustic version), “Mandolin Rain” by Bruce Hornsby and “Mad World” from the Donnie Darko soundtrack.

I think I can blame my weird behavior (at the moment, anyway) both conscious and subconscious on “opting out” of Christmas and my birthday yet getting sucked into both (which I can (and will) fully blame on my fucking co-workers). I wanted the 19th to come and go unnoticed. I wanted the 25th to come and go unnoticed. The kids at work are doing everything but allow these two dates to pass by quietly. D and I had decided to “opt out” so we could get our finances (a major source of freak out stress) straight by the first of the year. No, no, no…we’ve got to make a big ole deal out of it at work. Two other coworkers happen to have December birthdays as well so after much debate and discussion I’m sucked in. I’ve got to buy all sorts of crap to keep the little ones happy. Yeah, it sounds bitchish of me and I could care less. I’m irritated that I cover these kids shifts and go out of my way on the schedule to make sure their social life stays intact. On top of it I have to flush my finances down the shitter to keep from having to put up with hurt feelings? I feel nothing shy of strong armed because I’m a giant push over.

I know there’s a lot more behind the creepy dreams and odd play lists. It’s just easier to target (and bitch about) the dingbats I work with rather than look at the major stressors.