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7 December 2009, 21:30

Oh, joy of joys, it’s my favorite time of the year (that statement is dripping with sarcasm, by the way). Deathly cold weather plus all the pressures and stresses of a season that has a split personality – one half, a secular Santa figure who really should just stuff our Christmas stockings with coupons and crisp new $20 bills for all the “giving” this season represents; the other half is overly religious father figure embracing all the hypocrisy of the seasonal penitent and pious as they patiently wait until the season is over to return to being the assholes and motherfuckers they were before November. Yes, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

I seem to ride the extremes of the season, bouncing from the “Charlie Brown’s Christmas Special” to “Bad Santa” and leveling off around “A Christmas Story”. The christians, especially around this season, do seem to get my goat the worst of any other group. People are guilted and goaded into acting better this time of year, which only puts in to sharp relief the less than honorable way they were acting before. The season has been coopted by the extremes of the human spectrum, the overly devout and the abundantly materialistic. I err on the side of being materialistic – I find it more fun, and well, more blatant and honest. I like giving to those I love. I like spending money. I like being gluttonous and indulgent. It fits in with my view that this should be a HAPPY time, and I am happy when I have love, money and food. I don’t see much point in spending obligatory time with family members that make you crazy, going to ritualized ceremonies that either give you an euphoric sense of self righteousness for a small moment, or numb you into a zombie like coma as you go through the motions of being godly and reverent.

My behavior and attitudes toward my fellow man won’t really change during these three months of self induced seasonal insanity – I endeavor to treat the world the best I can, all the times of the year. I succeed and I fail, but I never stop trying or feel like I have to make a special effort because I was a cunt a majority of the time. And before you condemn me for being a follower and apostle of the atheistic dollar sign, the plans and thought I have about money and people during this time of the year usually consists of wanting to win the lottery, helping my fellow man, contributing to charities until I’m almost broke, and taking my baby and my ass down to the Bahamas until the cold abates.

The only thing I really want is a couple of good, solid breaks in my life – mostly having to do with the car and employment. I already got one of the greatest gifts I could have received in July, so anything else (besides my life breaking right) is just pure gravy.

Eh, but onto a few of my complaints and observations about the Zombie Jesus Birthday in Hee Haw, or if you’re not religious – Fat Man with SWAG day.

There are Hay rides and Carriage rides on Saturdays and Sundays which cost around a 10 spot and start out in front of Old Mill Tavern, my home away from home that has beer (home has no food, much less beer). They are organized and run by a little round woman in a fatigues and a camo santa hat. She’s always got a stick up her butt that causes her to traipse around like a nazi Chihuahua on Crank, demanding we move our cars so the tractor can fit through to pick up the nearly freezing passengers for the hay ride, or screaming at us for scaring the almost moribund ancient nag that drags overly affectionate, slightly drunk couples around town. These two events are part of a “menu” of events happening in Hee Haw. And the menu has prices. And the prices are hefty. You could go out to dinner at a nice restaurant for what it costs to do some vaguely holiday activity in the frigid cold. There’s caroling, or walking the deserted storefronts in the dark or watching the juvenile delinquents rearrange letters on the portable signs to read something obscene. I did miss the big event downtown last Tuesday when the lights exploded and sent a shower of sparks forth to set fire to the nearby trees. I would trek a hour in any direction to seek out a more satisfying holiday experience, but Santa has yet seen fit to bring me a car tag, so it’s the portable heater, farting dogs and the occasional trip down to the tavern for that vat of holiday spirits to satiate my yen for the traditional.

Back home, there were all sorts of little things to do, but it was a bigger place. We had the prerequisite religiousity but there were also a plethora of nice little bars with pool tables and pumpkin ale to frequent should the need to get polluted arise. Also, free university to-dos, city wide events, and a bigger population to bump elbows with should you need a social outlet.

I am hoping for a Christmas mirroring what my Turkey Day was like. I spent the better part of it with the ones I love, doing the TV and food thing. I want to grab that small bit of happy that passes by if you aren’t alert enough to see it. Plus, you know me. It ain’t a happy holiday unless I have a tonnage of the absurd to mock.

The dogs are surviving. Buddy has a new lovely home I think he really enjoys, Jacob is his normal bag-of-neurosis, and Milo seems to be enjoying the weather more but he’s built for this weather with that two inch thick coat of pure wool hair and another one inch layer of blubber under that. I think the cold drives the insect population underground, I hope. I don’t see as many mutant, horrifying bugs as usual and THANKKEW JAAAYZUS for that. For the phobia these bugs bring out in me, I’m thinking about taking elephant tranquilizers to keep me calm. I am freezing my ass off, and thinking about the regular things that are stressing me, but I’ve taken the attitude that just plow through it until the money’s gone, and if things are suppose to work out, they will. If not, I do have a friend or two I can depend upon to help me out (I hope) until something shakes loose for me.

My friends here are true friends. You can always see the steadfast ones, because they are the ones that love you when your broke, or a bitch, and these people are truly ones to treasure for not only putting up with me but choosing to be friends with me. We are all in the same financial Titanic with varying degrees of resources. It’s really nice to have a solid group of people you know will always welcome you and have a smile for you no matter what. I really am trying to resist moving away because I do not want to be alone in a strange place again.

That’s the best present I could ever get. That, or a car tag.