And so this is Christmas [Eve].

And what have I done? Same thing as every year, really. There's an small dinner in the later moments of the evening twilight, followed by a phonecall by the preceeding generation to the rest of the family in the old country. Then we flick to the Carols By Candlelight on the Nine Network while the women prepare for the midnight meal, Nochebuena. You know, not that we live in a sexist household or anything. The femmes just take it upon themselves. And frankly, they're more competent than us menfolk. All manner of meats are thrown onto the barbecue, salads are tossed and various other foodstuffs are made delicious.

I spend most of the weeks leading up to Christmas dreading it. I don't look forward to Christmas at all. My best friend goes up to Queensland for a week, and the lad I have my eyes on, without fail, also goes away/interstate/overseas. It's a different boy every year, but the result is the same. I don't understand it myself. Bah! But you know, now that it's here, I don't mind it so much. Food's good, company is great. And this year, Dad isn't present, which I know isn't a pleasant thing to say, especially at Christmas.

See, I spend Christmas Eve at Mum's house with her side of the family. Aunts, uncles, cousin and my nan. Christmas Day is spent with Dad's side. And my family being in the dysfunctional way that it is (my parents being both together and not-together simultaneously - why can't they make up their minds and separate already?), both parental units are usually present.

Ah well. At least tonight, I'll be spared from his inappropriate comments, his airing of our family's dirty laundry, his gossiping, his futile attempts at matchmaking, and the associated embarassment that comes with it all. And this all happens while he's sober, mind you.

A happy non-religion-specific gift giving season to all, and to all a good night.


Listening to:
Title: Step Into My Office Baby
Artist: Belle & Sebastian
Album/station: Dear Catastrophe Waitress (2003)
Length: 4.14