Over and done with

It's over. And done with. Christmas.

How I miss thee already. :) Or technically, the music, the buying of stuff for others, the food excuses and generally the anticipation and excitement.

I watched "A Grumpy Old Christmas" last night, and while I understood and agreed with a lot of the complaints, I don't feel them. I love Christmas.

I feel a little lost now.

This may change when I have a life, but bring on next year - with a partner please and others' children to live vicariously through!

Christmas Eve

It's started. Finally. I get excited in about October and then wait with bated breath.

Went shopping for food and drinks earlier today. Am eternally grateful that I have an almost-standalone Woolworths so I didn't have to brave the shopping centre crush.

But I'm heading to shopping-centre-land for bon bons. Here's to getting a car park!

I am raising a glass to each and every one of you who have dropped by this blog in the last year. I hope that your Christmas goes great guns and you have an absolute blast. Check back for pics after the day.

Caelum

I know it's totally getting repetitive and showing just how clucky and lonely I am, but I just stared at my nephew for half an hour (or more) today. He is just that gorgeous.

As my sister said, 'woe betide us when you have your own.'

Moving.... again...

for the 6th time this year.

Yes, it hasn't been a whole houseful of stuff most times, but it's still maddeningly frustrasting.

Thank God that next time is for 3 years.

Another day closer to Christmas

3.5 days!
4 sleeps!

I get inordinately excited about Christmas. And I don't think it's about the presents. They're nice and all, but I really think that I get excited because I get to see people open things that I've really spent time on, and thought about how they would like it, or use it.

That, and hanging out with friends and family.

We had some rent-a-grandkids at the pre-Christmas shindig last weekend and you know what? I cannot wait until I have some of my own little munchkins to share the Christmas joy with! It made such a difference.

Anger

I've got all this anger simmering just under the surface. I need to scream. I need to punch something.

Everything is pissing me off.

The heat. My Dad. My Mum. (See? I'm an equal anger person) Money. Rain. Tea. Dinner. Sugar. Me.

And you know what's the worst thing? It's irrational anger.

Why am I mad because my Mother wants the TV she wants and doesn't want to get $1500 in cash out and give it to me? Why am I mad because I have to make dinner*?

Everything is pissing me the hell off.

Everything.

Well, not the snufflemonster or his mumma, but everything else on the planet.

Antidepressants recommenced.

* Deal for living at Dad's is that I cook my own food. I actually don't mind this; I eat what and when I want and am not guilty if I eat a sandwich instead, but the actually making of the food is pissing me off.

The Snuffle Monster

I love him. I kiss him. I tickle him. I hold him.

He snuffles. He beats me with his head. He holds my lip scratching it with his long fingernails. He vomits on me. He screams.... all the time. He lights up the room with his smile.

My nephew is such a brilliant boy.

Next Year

I've been sitting on this information for a couple of days. It's exciting news, tempered a little by fear.

I have a permanent job with EQ. Well, once I get through the eight months probation that is.

I'm not going to tell you were it is: let's just call it 'W'. I wouldn't tell you where it is anyway, but considering that there are only approximately 30 students in the high school, I don't want it known where I'm teaching. If I manage to rant on here at some point, I don't want the school easily recognisable.

I'm not saying of course that I will rant, but just that sometimes I may.

I'm a little worried about teaching in a school with so few students, but am hoping that it really suits me.

We shall find out together.

Whooping Cough

I definitely have it.

The previous doctor sucked.

The new doctor got me to take bloods and chest x-ray and he said that it was very clear that I do have it.

I called everyone, posted on FB and am posting here. Not that any of you hang with me, but I am letting people know.

I do have a disease that the government needs to be notified about you know!

My 7 week old nephew is now on 'just in case' antibiotics and my pregnant friend/s are seeing the doctor to talk about pre-symptom antibiotics.

So pissed that the original doctor just didn't take blood originally. It could have all been sorted out months ago.

I have to be careful about what I say on this blog. That's not really the point of blogs; they are a way (in my mind anyway) to let people anonymously into your thoughts and sometimes get feedback. They aren’t really meant to be read by your family, so that you have to take care of their feelings while you are processing your thoughts and emotions; kinda like a diary, but with people who can read it.


Mine isn’t. I set it up to keep people updated on my journey in England and I haven’t changed the address. I could, but ultimately I like knowing that people read it and I'm too scared to lose the followers if I remove the blog and replace it somewhere else. (Ego whore?) I know that my Dad reads it as well as some of my close friends. Other people who have found me a followed me also read it. Now, my friends can know whatever’s going on in my brain, no problem. Strangers? Bring it on. My family? I don’t want to hurt them, but I find the outlet of blogging is beneficial. While I like being alone, I hate being lonely. Massive difference. I don’t talk to people about things like this, and when I do I get people trying to 'fix' it or trying to tell me why I shouldn’t be thinking that way and so I’ve pretty much given up telling people my feelings. I need this. And I need to talk about the things I do. Just writing it in my diary sometimes isn't as cathartic as putting it out into the World.

So, Dad. Here goes. I am going to write this. I know it will most likely annoy you and if your wife reads it, it will definitely hurt her. I apologise for that. Please know that it is not my intention to hurt either of you (or my sisters if you’re reading) but I really need to write this. She wrote her interpretation of traditions on her blog and I know that it wasn't as bald as this,  I need to do this.
If you don't want to read on, that's fine - close the browser. Otherwise, I've warned you and I would appreciate you taking this as me letting my emotions out and I really hope there are no repercussions should you choose to continue.

Without further ado:


Christmas Traditions.

It appears we have none. It really upsets me. I know that we grow and traditions need to change wit us, but I can't see anything other thans P's dinner that resembels anything that I have done in the past.
 
As a kid, we went to my maternal grandmother's for a family dinner. Mostly just us and her and her epically magnificent 'roast' potatoes and half-frozen chocolate bavarian. Ot that might be just when we went for normal dinner. But it was special. No one else I knew did anything on Christmas Eve and I thought it was a really good thing to separate the families. Yes, we saw her mostly on Christmas Day anyway, but we didn't need to, we already had!
 
Then we had Santa on Christmas Day at home, then either everyone came here or we went to our Aunt and Uncles. An actual family event! Lots of people, lots of food - the only time when we had a large family. Ah, the joy. Swimming, lasagne, potato salad, pizza. Italians.
 
As we've gotten older, of course things change.
 
When our parents split up, we kept Christmas Eve as Mum's night and Christmas Day as Dad's day. It allowed Mum to go to friends and kept up the traditions. We changed the location; it became cold chicken and coleslaw on the beach watching the sun set, but it was still Christmas Eve, leaving Christmas Day open for the large family gathering.
 
Then it all changed. Because of melding families. We gained an aunt's thing the week before, wich was great a large family gathering and lots of laughter. My new sisters also had the celebration on Christmas Eve, so we had to swap. We were told we had to swap. And my original sisters couldn't understand why I was upset. I can't even really explain it, except that I still am.
 
But then of course, we lost Christmas Day as well. Yes, they've all grown so aren't large gatherings on Christmas Day, but we don't get it, 'cause we had to change to spending the day with Mum. I love her and I love spending the day with her, but her family are pretty lame and no one ever makes the effort to see each other. I miss having lots of people around.
 
When we got to about 20, my friends and I were SMSing Merry Christmas to each other and worked out that we were all free and got everyone together and went to Southbank and swam. Christmas Dinner always turned into some kind of sausage roll or chicken roll bought at NightOwl. Ewww but excellent! A tradition back in my life. That's changed as well now. There are children and people working on Christmas Night. Ok, I'm down with that - I've just made it clear I still want to see some of them on the day. If my family is going to make it a 2 hour thing 'cause the sisters with partners have to go and spend time there as well, I want to feel included and loved as well.
 
But all in all, it's changed. I hate it. And I feel guilty about it. I kinda added to it, but spending three Christmasses out of the past 5 years away. Why should I have any right to feel that things have changed?
 
I don't know, but I do. And I want some kind of tradition. Some kind of knowing that what the hell I want to do is listened to and considered.
 
'Cause of course we've know got Secret Santa because Christmas is 'too expensive'. From a family where we grew up buying everyone a present to only buying one and getting one is pants. Disgusting. That's the point of Christmas to me. Looking, scouring and really thinking about your family and finding things they'd like. Not the money. Not the getting (but of course, I like getting) but the freaking giving. But I'm not allowed to now. Oh no. But I have to spend $100 on one present when 10 usually cost $100.
 
Why does everything leave me behind? I think the tradition we have now sucks balls and I can't wait until I've got a partner who can organise a new tradition with our family.

Next door

I just got off the phone with 000. Second time in my life I've called them. That time my Dad had some sort of gastro and was being a little girl (Sorry, Dad, I know it was freaking you out and you made the right call) This time, the next door neighbours were screaming and screaming and screaming.

Normally, I would've ignored it; after the screaming that our family did before the break up, I felt horrible doing it. But I felt I had to because of her screams. She wasn't screaming in anger - I've never heard someone screaming without words so terrified. I went up the front of the house and she was screaming, "Don't Hit Me!" He was screaming, "I love you too much to do that!"

So I called my sister who works in DV and asked whether I should call them. Her words were 'yes'.

So I did.

And the instant I got off the phone, he stalked off so now I look like an idiot.

Santa, please stop here

Now, I am in a quandry. I am irritated and upset that the Christmas I grew up with is no more. It's been changing for the past seven years or so, but I wasn't ready for it this year. I'm even in that place that I can't be annoyed that the game has changed, you know, moving overseas and missing two in row... But it has, and I'm a-struggling with loss of tradition. If a new tradition was springing up, it would be a-ok, but it's just kind of a big hole.

Oh, well. Getting maudlin. I'm sure I'll be posting more about it in the next three weeks or so... but to get you started on my Christmas musings, I will let you know what I want.

(It's a blogthis challenge and Amy posted one similar and I wanted to join in on the materialistic side of Christmas.)

1. A watch. I can't read the one I have. I know, I know. But I just can't. It's a rectangular face with rectangular hands and only 12, 3, 6 and 9 on it. I can't tell where they are in the middle of those numbers. Which in itself isn't that bad, but in the middle of my secondary classes having to rely on 15 year olds to tell the time is kinda embarrassing.

I also really like kids watches. My favourite watch I ever owned had the ABC123 cubes as the numbers and pencils as the hand. (I was 24). So something like this:

Or even the one with the pirates and monkeys on it.

2. Just Dance 2, Epic Mickey or Super Mario Brothers for Wii.

3. A boyfriend. Someone like:

or

or

or even

Me, have a type? What'cha talking about?