Scary X-mas

Today is that grand day that all 6 year olds look forward to every year. They save up all their good behavior in hopes of getting that new basketball hoop they've been hinting at since June. It's Christmas time, and I'm sitting in my Florida room alone and unshowered.

I've lived on my own for 5 years now. In that time my mom has moved to Kentucky, my extended family has stopped celebrating holidays like we did when I was a kid, and I've grown cynical and grumpy about all things Christmas.

When I was a kid my whole family got together. My grandparents would come in from Kentucky around Thanksgiving time and would stay through April. On Christmas day I would wake up as early as my little body would let me. I'd run around the house to wake up my mom and sister. I'd sit right next to the tree so I could pass out all the presents, making sure I always had the last present to open. After all the wrapping paper had been ripped and all the gifts had been played with we would head over to my Aunt Pine's house. The whole family would be there, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins... everyone.

We'd spend the day playing games and making dinner. After a huge meal that usually left me sore and tired we'd sit around and sing Christmas carols. My uncles would pull out their guitars and we'd all sing along to their melodies. I'd sing too, but I never quite knew the words. Instead I would sing "lalalalalala" in the tune of whatever song was being strummed. Once I had requested "Silent Night" for the tenth time my Uncles would smile and tell me it was time for presents.

My Papaw would pull out his camera and videotape each and every gift opened. I was always so proud to show off my kitten sweater or costume jewelry. One year I got a bunny rabbit. I didn't even see him sitting there. My family just kept laughing and I didn't know why. I thought I was doing something really stupid. I turned around to hide my face and I saw him. I screamed so loud I think I scared the neighbors. This was one of the first Christmas's without Papaw, I wish he had been there to catch it on his camera. He would have been very pleased to have that caught on tape for eternity.

This was my Christmas as a kid. Family sitting around bonding and loving each other. Now it's me sitting on a couch talking to my roommate's cat. It's friends feeling sorry for me and inviting me over for the day. But spending time with other families just reminds me it's not my family. That I"m missing out on something. That I miss something.

Damn you Orlando! I hate being here on days like this.

Road Time

Tomorrow I will be setting off on an adventure of sorts. I'll be going on a trip down south to visit some old friends. Aud will be having her biggest art show to date and after that I'll be in Hollywood to finish out the weekend.

I need time away from this city. It's been months since I've ventured further than Deltona. Time spent at home isn't even enough anymore. I just need to escape. Here's to hoping this weekend can do just that!

This is a poem I wrote last time I headed down south. It always makes me long for somewhere else not quite here.

Loud noises coming from small mouths,
Memories carried by winds headed south.
Unexpected moments caught in tiny glass jars.
Friends made in run down old bars.
Time's running late and hope is fading,
But these small tokens keep me waiting.
For brighter light and shining thoughts,
Bringing back that for which I've fought.

Down Time

Last night was spent indoors. The quiet santuary of cotton jersey sheets and feather pillow overpowered my will. Sometimes the loud calls from the 20-somethings caravaning to a new night of debauchery just isn't enough to rouse me. Sometimes I need time away. Sometimes I just want a burrito from Chipotle and a L Word marathon.
Hibernation was my plan last night. A goal I expect to repeat again tonight. Downtown has become predictable to me. Go out, meet up with friends, watch drama between said friends unfold, get hit on by the same 3 girls, drink one too many red bull and vodkas, dance to songs 3 years too old to still be played in bars and finally go home spinning and horny but too tired to do anything about it. All this only to wake up hung over and drag myself to work for 9 hours while I complain about my state of health.
A few days off is needed from all things. So time spent at home is my time away. I miss you downtown, but not nearly enough to warrant emergence from my warm peaceful bed.