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Christmas' approach was terribly hard for me this year. Every single light and christmas decoration stuck out like a middle finger in my face, saying "This isn't for you, you son of a bitch, go back to where you belong." I had Christmas when I was young, but when you've spent your adult life telling people Christmas is terrible, horrible, no good and very bad, and then you realize that you've been a fucking tool box the entire time, something as innocuous as Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer can send you flying off the handle. Something like that can start to make you move toward familiar ground, but I burned that bridge and there's no chance of rebuilding, so I trudged forth into holiday annoyance. I want to apologize to everyone who was affected by my bad behavior this holiday season. It was entirely uncalled for, and if I was a better man, I would not have acted like such a freak. I would take the holiday at face value, and be merry like the holiday was intended. I simply do not know how to act sometimes.
Kat helped immensely, in ways that I don't think even she realizes. Christmas morning was spent alone in my house, sulking as I watched Super Troopers (I couldn't bare to watch TV) and trying to silence a dog that missed its owner (Lena whines very loudly when Joan leaves). I ended up holding the dog most of the time. It was a symbiotic arrangement.
After a while, I visited my parents. My brother and I got my father a Showtime rotissery cooker. He loves this thing. My time there was spent talking about the right way to cook a chicken and skirting around the fact that it was Christmas when my mother was nearby. I went to Kat's uncle's and then to her grandmother's. Suddenly, I went from a bitter, awkward christmas to one that was inviting and warm. At least until we left Uncle Joel's, and went to Kat's grandmother's. That was the Christmas you always see in movies, where the children wear dresses and suits, and the adults wear ridiculous sweaters, and someone mentions that the Republican party is the "right" party to belong to. It was the kind of Christmas I was most afraid of. At that point, though, there was no room for fear or any kind of uncouth behavior. I was there for Kat, because she needed the support. It was the least I could do. She gave me Christmas, after all.
Work was insane throughout the end of the year, but I handled it like a professional. I'm damn proud of myself for that.
New Years was spent with Kat, at a party where we played poker, I got smashed, sang Depeche Mode in the car, and slept in late next to Kat. I couldn't think of a better way to start the new year, could you?
My new year's resolution is to take better care of myself. I realize that I may have been a little needy lately. I strive for self-sufficience. When I lash out looking for help, I do it in very self-destructive ways and hope somebody notices. I stop doing laundry, I drink to excess, and generally just stop taking care of myself. I've got to stop doing that, no matter how I feel. I NEED to take care of myself. I stopped smoking cigarettes (cigars and pipes are fine once in a while), and I noticed how much I drank this holiday season. I had to restock the liquor cabinet twice. That's quite a bit. So I'm limiting my alcohol intake. I won't let myself become an alcoholic. And I'm doing laundry more so I don't smell like poverty.
I spent a lot of time watching the first season of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex that Kat got me for Christmas, and I love it. I finished it last night, and as a result, I'm reading more J.D. Salinger. Last night I read "The Laughing Man" and "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" and tonight I read "Slight Rebellion off Madison". All three of them were amazing (I knew Bananafish would be, though. I read it in college.) I've decided to read Catcher in the Rye again. I love it because I really can relate to Holden, and not in a creepy "I want to shoot a public figure" way, but in that I'm coming to terms with the idea that the world is a very confusing place, and that I at one time was a very lost young man who staged his own slight rebellion. Sometimes, though, I still feel like Holden, wandering the streets of New York City, just dreaming of saving children from danger in a rye patch and getting frustrated that the world isn't what he dreams it to be. But I rest easy, because somehow I think that after Holden gets back on his feet and out of the mental hospital, he turns out okay. And I have every bit of confidence that I, no matter what happens to me, or how bad things get, am going to be okay.
I dream it to be so.
Kat helped immensely, in ways that I don't think even she realizes. Christmas morning was spent alone in my house, sulking as I watched Super Troopers (I couldn't bare to watch TV) and trying to silence a dog that missed its owner (Lena whines very loudly when Joan leaves). I ended up holding the dog most of the time. It was a symbiotic arrangement.
After a while, I visited my parents. My brother and I got my father a Showtime rotissery cooker. He loves this thing. My time there was spent talking about the right way to cook a chicken and skirting around the fact that it was Christmas when my mother was nearby. I went to Kat's uncle's and then to her grandmother's. Suddenly, I went from a bitter, awkward christmas to one that was inviting and warm. At least until we left Uncle Joel's, and went to Kat's grandmother's. That was the Christmas you always see in movies, where the children wear dresses and suits, and the adults wear ridiculous sweaters, and someone mentions that the Republican party is the "right" party to belong to. It was the kind of Christmas I was most afraid of. At that point, though, there was no room for fear or any kind of uncouth behavior. I was there for Kat, because she needed the support. It was the least I could do. She gave me Christmas, after all.
Work was insane throughout the end of the year, but I handled it like a professional. I'm damn proud of myself for that.
New Years was spent with Kat, at a party where we played poker, I got smashed, sang Depeche Mode in the car, and slept in late next to Kat. I couldn't think of a better way to start the new year, could you?
My new year's resolution is to take better care of myself. I realize that I may have been a little needy lately. I strive for self-sufficience. When I lash out looking for help, I do it in very self-destructive ways and hope somebody notices. I stop doing laundry, I drink to excess, and generally just stop taking care of myself. I've got to stop doing that, no matter how I feel. I NEED to take care of myself. I stopped smoking cigarettes (cigars and pipes are fine once in a while), and I noticed how much I drank this holiday season. I had to restock the liquor cabinet twice. That's quite a bit. So I'm limiting my alcohol intake. I won't let myself become an alcoholic. And I'm doing laundry more so I don't smell like poverty.
I spent a lot of time watching the first season of Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex that Kat got me for Christmas, and I love it. I finished it last night, and as a result, I'm reading more J.D. Salinger. Last night I read "The Laughing Man" and "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" and tonight I read "Slight Rebellion off Madison". All three of them were amazing (I knew Bananafish would be, though. I read it in college.) I've decided to read Catcher in the Rye again. I love it because I really can relate to Holden, and not in a creepy "I want to shoot a public figure" way, but in that I'm coming to terms with the idea that the world is a very confusing place, and that I at one time was a very lost young man who staged his own slight rebellion. Sometimes, though, I still feel like Holden, wandering the streets of New York City, just dreaming of saving children from danger in a rye patch and getting frustrated that the world isn't what he dreams it to be. But I rest easy, because somehow I think that after Holden gets back on his feet and out of the mental hospital, he turns out okay. And I have every bit of confidence that I, no matter what happens to me, or how bad things get, am going to be okay.
I dream it to be so.