Season

Tis the season. 

        Yesterday was the first day back from the Thanksgiving holiday and this is the least productive day of the year so I am told. Probably true. Look it up? Nah.

          To my dismay, I had expect to spend at least the first half-hour of the day fielding endless, "How was your Thanksgiving? What'd you do? Did you go shopping Thursday night/Friday morning? Who was there? Did you travel? Did you host? Did you wear fluffy holiday socks or wear a sweater? Were you wearing clothes at all? What do you look like nak.." 

        Perhaps not those last few, but you get the idea. I don't mind it per say. I guess it's because there's an expectation. I didn't do anything special. In fact, quite the opposite. So much so that I wish I didn't have to talk about it. We ate. Great. It wasn't big. People who live in the house, and my grandmother came over. For once we all pretended like nothing major was happening and as if everything was fiiine. Right. Bullshit. Nothing is fine. My mother and stepfather aren't fine, my stepbrother and his girlfriend and their kid aren't fine. My grandmother isn't fucking fine. I'm not fucking fine. Nobody and nothing is fine gosh darnit! (trying to change up the colorful language here once in a while) 

            I hate pretending. I despise it. I don't have the energy anymore. My energy is spent trying to survive, to escape, and stay sane. That is 100% of my time and energy right now. Anything else is filed under "escape." Yes. Physically and mentally from that hell-hole. I cannot sleep, think straight or stand it. But yes, let us all pretend as if we're happy. But back to the point. 

          My point is I don't mind being asked, but now I feel I need to put on a face and say it was okay! "Do anything special?" NOPE! "Go shopping?" NOPE! No one to shop for! Then I corrected myself. "Well, no one to bother staying up all night to shop for." Ah, that's better. So they don't think I'm a loner crazy fellow. Yes, that conversation happened. I despise being reminded of how it went. I'd like to forget thanks. I'd like to forget for a long while the situation I'm in so I can move on. Wow, what a whiny asshole I am.

              But seriously, back to the point. After answering these with smiles, I sit and listen. I would much rather listen to everyone else's long holiday weekend story. Which is also why I give such short, dismissing questions. Mine was fine, how was yours? Dodge and reflect. Or whatever it's called. Even more, it hit me Monday, is how good it made me feel when people began talking about their shopping. Yes, shopping. God, it's been eons since I truly went out and said "I'M GONNA BUY A THING! THAT'S NOT GONNA PUT ME INTO CRIPPLING DEBT. FOR ME. YEA, A THING FOR ME AND ONLY ME TO MAKE ME FEEL GOOD." But people began talking about shopping for laptops and TVs and clothes for their wives and husbands and kids and for some reason it melted my heart which I was at that point reminded is still there. 

          It reminded me of that part of me that apparently will never go away. I enjoy treating other people. I enjoy spending time with friends and loved ones long enough to go out, buy them a whole bunch of the things they've mentioned over the last few months or year or whichever, and surprise them with it. I don't play around. It's one of my only true talents. I will remember that thing you mentioned from July, IN PASSING, and if you haven't gotten it or fathomed acquiring it, it's under that tree or you're being surprised with it somehow spectacularly. Every year I've had the opportunity to do this, I have. One year, my girlfriend at the time, I went so far as to buy 5 separate cards, hide them all over on our way back to my apartment, In hand, in the car, I HID A FUCKING CARD OUTSIDE. It was nearly an Easter egg hunt until turning the lights on to reveal what was supposed to be a 1 or 2 gift exchange into a 15-20 gift extravaganza underneath a fucking Charlie Brown Christmas tree. Every gift was meticulously wrapped with it's own wrapping paper, separate ribbon colors, which corresponded to the TYPE of gift it was. There were so many, I MADE UP A SYSTEM OF SORTING. Yes. I went so far, I bought TWO of certain things. There was candy, electronics, Imported Egyptian Cotton sheets made from the finest makers and with the highest thread counts, jewelry, clothing, probably more candy and food related things, COMPLETE with not one, but SEVERAL "but wait, there's one more thing." Moments. To the point she thought I was going to purpose (Not even joking) and much, much more I can't bring myself to think because well, 3 days later, she told me to fuck off. I'm not bitter or anything though. 

                 I've literally been window shopping with someone, and mentioned something in passing, and while they were away in a store, I snuck off, bought it, and slipped it in their bag. I LOVE doing things like that. Surprising people with the things they want is one of the only things in this world I do that makes me feel fucking incredible. It makes ME feel incredible. When i have any kind of disposable income, I immediately want to spend it on someone else instead of myself. Listening to those in the office talk about shopping brought those feelings back and I realized hell, things aren't that bad. So even though I have no one to treat this year, and no real means to, I still have the memories of the things I've done for others and the happiness I've brought surprising someone and seeing their face. And I still have the feeling itself by simply thinking of the possibilities in future.

            And nobody can take that away. Merry  fucking Christmas and New Years. 

   Back to bitching.