Holiday Build-up!!!

I'll admit it, I totally love December. I love the build-up, I love the food, I love presents, I love watching that Hershey's Kisses commercial every year with the hand-chime chorus of red and green Kisses, I love being appalled by Santa movie trailers and the big Hollywood Oscar-whore epics, I love the tree (esp because it's not a real tree), I love putting Monty in his sweaters even though he hates it, I love how grocery stores are filled with extravagant things to cook and I love the excuse to cook extravagant things, and I love the end of fall semester.

We're staying in Balto for the holidays and that decision is not in the least bit controversial. A few years ago, when I started not going home for the holidays, I thought there would be some kind of battle about it (as my father would say, "I thought it would go over like a turd in a punchbowl") but there wasn't any backlash at all. Holidays come with relatives (I have zillions), relatives come with questions (only about 5 different questions but 5 is enough), and it's been made clear to me that my mother doesn't want me truthfully answering any questions about my "lifestyle." She says it would make people uncomfortable and when she says people, she means herself.

Every year my sister expresses utter jealousy about this situation and reminds me that she would give her eyeteeth to NOT be in Calgary for December, chatting with Auntie Eileen et alia about hip replacements, the traffic!, the weather!, do you think you'll ever get married?, and Holocaust survival. She says the only highlight is listening to the answers Mom comes up with about what I'm doing now and how they're either 1) lies or 2) half-truths that are awkward because it must be that everyone knows the full truth and they just don't say it out loud. All I can think is FUCK, YEAH! Calgary holidays *are* horrible, my relatives are *horrible* (I remember this one, suprisingly non-racialized Christmas quote from my Uncle Dave, "When the government starts registering the firearms, that's the first step towards Communism!"), and my parents hottub works just as well in March. I could rainbow up and proclaim The Truth repeatedly and awkwardly to each and every hating relative -- taking care to follow-up in the most confrontational ways possible like the "home for the holidays" ensemble film it would be -- or I can embrace it for what it is: Freedom!!! We can spend December however we like!!! It's a wonderful, wonderful Christmas miracle and I want to embrace it!

These thoughts apropos of an email exchange I had with my mother yesterday re: Christmas lists. I sent her 4 ideas of various dollar amounts in the form of an Amazon Wishlist, product, price, and picture included. She sent me her list:
1) books I might like
2) DVDs I might like
3) a sweater I might like
Mental note: get Mom the same shit as always, only this year get her something she might actually like, as per list.

E sekretly loves December too; I think her favorite, favorite part is the advent calendar. She is very serious about it and will not be teased! A few years ago, she meticulously researched all available advent calendars and made her choice solely based on, I think, the weight of chocolate contained within the calendar. We tried to share one the first year she ordered them but we don't do that anymore, we get two. The company that makes the calendars might be on the religious fundy side of things. Each day brings a delicious chocolate AND a Christmassey poem that is impossible to read without weird sexual subtext. It's *awesome*. Examples include:
Dec 4: Keeping watch all through the night/ This toy soldier is sure to delight
Dec 5: Look who's here...what a treat!/ A Santa good enough to eat!
Dec 7: Toy soldiers cannot dress themselves.../ They need the help of Santa's elves.

The calendar is FILTHY! I love it. Will Dec 25 being about blowing Santa (again)? Stay tuned!