The Christmas that was
Note to self: in future, sleep early on Christmas Eve. Especially if you are scheduled to travel home the next morning and are not looking forward to it. Haven't you learnt yet that sleep deprivation and stress equal a melancholy mood? And melancholy moods make you think too much. That's definitely NOT a good start to Christmas Day.
So there I was, thinking too much... thinking about unspoken expectations and about trying to meet them and about getting it wrong a lot of the time. I was supposed to be getting a ride home with my uncle's family, and had been terrified of being late, terrified I'd hold everybody up and inconvenience them when I was relying on them for a favour.
I'd also had a sudden panic attack when packing my stuff the night before -- what if Dad doesn't like the T-shirt I got him from South Korea? What if he were to scold me for wasting money again? Arrgh!
I think The Friend Who Reads My Blog Regularly is right. I must be neurotic. *shakes head*
The tally this year: three presents and two cards. Very unexpected. (I anticipated less!)
To tell you the truth, I like shopping for presents; I like looking out for unusual or funny things to give people, or gifts which I know the other will enjoy. I just don't have people to buy for, since my family doesn't have the tradition of exchanging Christmas gifts. (Actually, that's a blessing. My family members are always the hardest people to shop for because they don't do "unusual or funny". With them it's "practical and sensible" all the way. *rolls eyes*)
However, there's one person I always, always prepare a gift for -- Janelle. Christmas is a really big event in her family. She looks forward to it, gets excited about it, and plans for it, unlike me :) I know she'll definitely give me something, so I have fun trying to find something for her too.
Last year, she painted a representation of me in the form of a flower. According to her, she didn't portray me as any known flower because I'm hard to classify (LOL) and somehow when she thinks of me she sees purple (I forget why), so the result was a cluster of purple flowers. My Christmas gift to her was a watch that doubled up as a bead bracelet.
This year, I gave her a pencilcase made up entirely of zips in varous shades of blue sewn together. She got me a small wimble clock. It is sooooooo cute! I totally love it!
"I think we're past that stage where we give sweet things to each other and now we're always wondering, 'What's the funkiest gift I can give her?' and it's so cool," Janelle told me, leaving me tickled pink.
I used to laugh at Mom because she'd only write to her friends once a year -- at Christmas. She'd send out Christmas cards with a whole year's worth of news squeezed into a sheet of paper or two. With the, ahem, "wisdom" of youth I always scoffed at the so-called friendships she had with those people. What, you write once a year and you call that "keeping in touch"? Don't you know that relationships need regular communication?!?
Now I know better. I know there are friends you don't have to talk to all the time, but when you do catch up with them again the interval of years falls away and you find yourself chatting like as if you've never been apart. Now I know that there are friends with whom you build memories, and even though you've moved on to other places & other things, they still have a place in your heart, and you want to say, "I've been thinking of you."
Despite all this, I didn't mail a single "real" Christmas card this year, and the only e-cards I sent out were anonymous ones(!). Chrismas Eve found me trying to remedy this gross oversight by frantically sending Christmas wishes through text messages on my mobile phone to every Christian friend in my address book. Typically last-minute. *smacks forehead*
Mom was about to pack some fruitcake for me to take back here, when my aunt stopped her.
"You say you want her to lose weight and then you give her cake -- it's so incongruous! That's like putting temptation in front of her!" my aunt told Mom.
Yeah, my weight (and the gain thereof) was a HOT topic of conversation over Christmas. For some reason, parents and close relatives always think they have the right to bring up the most embarrassing, uncomfortable issues concerning you in their collective presence. It's such an affliction.
"Your arm is twice the size of my arm!" Dad claimed, grossly exaggerating.
"What if you meet a guy who fits all your criteria and he doesn't look at you because you're pudgy?" my uncle asked, to my outrage. I'm quite aware that I'm NOT anywhere in the vicinity of "pudgy", thankyouverymuch. Of course, y'all will have to take my word for it :P
Really, it's enough to give any girl serious self-worth issues. Mom claims, "It's not just about the appearance factor, it's also about your health. You know overweight people are more at risk of heart disease and high blood pressure diabetes, and your father's side of the family has a history of diabetes..." (I come from a doctor's family, remember?)
The loss of the fruitcake was not, however, mourned, because fruitcake is pretty low on my list of Things I Love To Eat ;)