Ho Ho Ho
I am happy to report that with each passing year, the Holiday season becomes easier for me to bear. This morning I awoke to a light dusting of snow. We would all enjoy more snow if it has to be this cold.
I have trauma associated with xmas that will not go away. But at least I can bear it these days and even find something fun about it because the grandchildren.
So the last couple of days have been our usual chaos and overindulgence. I actually had some time yesterday to do some web browsing and read the latest post on Gods and Radicals, now known as whatever it is.
"So, the fight then here is the decommercialization of Christmas and the return of long Christmas holidays, with more pointless traditions and partying. I'm talking like an, all but emergency services being closed up the week long, long Christmas. Workers go home, do drugs and fuck! Give each other nice shit and eat too much! Spend your money only on things you will consume during this week long revel or on gifts for others! For the sake of the Gods and all life on Earth, have fun."
I liked that. Our christmas has no other purpose than to buy each other stuff, eat too much, and laugh.
My daughter is the penultimate Taurus, with a love of shopping and exquisite taste. Her theme this year seemed to be footwear, snuggly clothes, and equines. Those children got an absolute mountain of stuff. It was somewhat insane. She bought me new hiking boots, pajamas, and some beautiful clothing. Everything fits perfectly.
I am still punishing Jessica for being so horrible when she was a teenager. Therefore, all the children got joke books and I will not be around to have to listen to those gawd-awful jokes. Beckett even managed to dig out the copy of Monkeyfarts I gave him last year. Ha ha ha.
I returned to the scene of the crime to eat a big ham and other wonderful food and indulge in my unique and ridiculous teasing with my descendants. My friend Charmain joined us and I think we all had a good time. Pluto stayed at home with a great big bone, as I could not deal with the chaos of all the dogs, especially my own very large, not particularly well-trained one. His desire to be a 75-pound lap dog doesn't work so well in a crowded house. He thought it was amusing yesterday to plant his big leathery paw deep into my sore scar.
Some parts of the last couple of weeks have been quite difficult, but I think I am being more able to stay with my feelings and move beyond my anger, which is much easier to feel than the sadness under the anger. I sent a card to Al--the hot and cold, emotionally unavailable man. I had to cycle through some anger and my desire to tell him off. Yesterday I sent him a card in the mail saying I was uncomfortable with any further connection and wishing him the best. I said as little as possible, which is revolutionary for me. I am trying to use less words and stop thinking that I have to explain everything.
I am moving toward other decisions as well that I hope will result in lest angst and less of the monkey brain. I will be taking down my Facebook account this week. I fully understand that this is not much of a protest because they already have all my data and will continue to track me for the rest of my life. But at least I will not have to put up with the bullshit so rampant on that platform. I posted on there yesterday for the first time in a year and a half to try to discuss with my "friends" whether they are concerned about that platform and the people who run it. Yeah, I got attacked and shredded. I rest my case.
I am reading Sarah Kendzior's The View from Flyover Country. She is a brilliant journalist and scholar of authoritarian regimes. I follow her on Twitter, where I read about how deeply fucked we are in this country.
I am watching Vanity Fair on Amazon. It's supposed to be satire, but it seems confusing to me. And not very funny.
Thursday is Scarlett's birthday, so I have more unicorn stuff to wrap.
Then the weekend of staying at Jess and Jason's big house. I ordered a new external hard drive and will be organizing and saving files. Three dogs, three Christmas trees, cranking up the heat, and pretending that I am a rich person for a couple of days. Should be great.
Better get some decent sleep tonight so that I can bear having my head drilled tomorrow.
I have trauma associated with xmas that will not go away. But at least I can bear it these days and even find something fun about it because the grandchildren.
So the last couple of days have been our usual chaos and overindulgence. I actually had some time yesterday to do some web browsing and read the latest post on Gods and Radicals, now known as whatever it is.
"So, the fight then here is the decommercialization of Christmas and the return of long Christmas holidays, with more pointless traditions and partying. I'm talking like an, all but emergency services being closed up the week long, long Christmas. Workers go home, do drugs and fuck! Give each other nice shit and eat too much! Spend your money only on things you will consume during this week long revel or on gifts for others! For the sake of the Gods and all life on Earth, have fun."
I liked that. Our christmas has no other purpose than to buy each other stuff, eat too much, and laugh.
My daughter is the penultimate Taurus, with a love of shopping and exquisite taste. Her theme this year seemed to be footwear, snuggly clothes, and equines. Those children got an absolute mountain of stuff. It was somewhat insane. She bought me new hiking boots, pajamas, and some beautiful clothing. Everything fits perfectly.
I am still punishing Jessica for being so horrible when she was a teenager. Therefore, all the children got joke books and I will not be around to have to listen to those gawd-awful jokes. Beckett even managed to dig out the copy of Monkeyfarts I gave him last year. Ha ha ha.
I returned to the scene of the crime to eat a big ham and other wonderful food and indulge in my unique and ridiculous teasing with my descendants. My friend Charmain joined us and I think we all had a good time. Pluto stayed at home with a great big bone, as I could not deal with the chaos of all the dogs, especially my own very large, not particularly well-trained one. His desire to be a 75-pound lap dog doesn't work so well in a crowded house. He thought it was amusing yesterday to plant his big leathery paw deep into my sore scar.
Some parts of the last couple of weeks have been quite difficult, but I think I am being more able to stay with my feelings and move beyond my anger, which is much easier to feel than the sadness under the anger. I sent a card to Al--the hot and cold, emotionally unavailable man. I had to cycle through some anger and my desire to tell him off. Yesterday I sent him a card in the mail saying I was uncomfortable with any further connection and wishing him the best. I said as little as possible, which is revolutionary for me. I am trying to use less words and stop thinking that I have to explain everything.
I am moving toward other decisions as well that I hope will result in lest angst and less of the monkey brain. I will be taking down my Facebook account this week. I fully understand that this is not much of a protest because they already have all my data and will continue to track me for the rest of my life. But at least I will not have to put up with the bullshit so rampant on that platform. I posted on there yesterday for the first time in a year and a half to try to discuss with my "friends" whether they are concerned about that platform and the people who run it. Yeah, I got attacked and shredded. I rest my case.
I am reading Sarah Kendzior's The View from Flyover Country. She is a brilliant journalist and scholar of authoritarian regimes. I follow her on Twitter, where I read about how deeply fucked we are in this country.
I am watching Vanity Fair on Amazon. It's supposed to be satire, but it seems confusing to me. And not very funny.
Thursday is Scarlett's birthday, so I have more unicorn stuff to wrap.
Then the weekend of staying at Jess and Jason's big house. I ordered a new external hard drive and will be organizing and saving files. Three dogs, three Christmas trees, cranking up the heat, and pretending that I am a rich person for a couple of days. Should be great.
Better get some decent sleep tonight so that I can bear having my head drilled tomorrow.