Merry Christmas Is Seeping Through My Walls

My internet was down last night from 6 p.m. til 1 p.m. today. Which left me with my digital antenna 10 channels and…I AM SO BLOODY SICK OF SAPPY CHRISTMAS MOVIES! Oh, and channels like Ion who devote entire weekend days to showing 20 straight hours of the drivel need Z-whacked. Repeatedly. Enough, already, I get it, it’s the freaking holiday season, BLAH HUMBUG. Fa la la la la go fuck yourself. I found myself watching, again, Rent An Elf, this morning. Yeah, yeah, single dad meets cute girl, love ensues, happy ending, happy family. Cutesy and heartwarming. But my heart is tired of being warmed so piss off. I only have one real Christmas movie I enjoy and that is The Ref with Dennis Leary. HYSTERICAL. And I can’t watch it cos I only have it on VHS (those are tapes we old folks used to use before DVDs and digital files, for you young peeps) and we don’t have a single working VCR. Three broken ones, but not a working one. Which boggles the mind cos no one wants them anymore, they practically give them away at yard sales but, oh yeah, I sacrificed my yard sale love this summer so my kid could go have fun at day camp. And to demonstate just how old school I am, I also want an old boombox with dual cassette and CD player cos my car has a tape player and I’d like to freaking use it. Yes, I have the adapter so I can use my MP3 player but it’s a hassle. I just wanna jam a tape in and be done with it. Don’t get me wrong, I am no technophobe. I lurve lurve lurve computers and digital files and all the nifty ‘all in one’ features of music and video players and games and word processing. But I drive an ’01 and sometimes, old stuff is just…better. And sometimes, it’s just nostalgia to take you back to a different time and place where you had some good memories…

So obviously I survived the second holiday party yesterday. It was packed. And Spook was irked that I wouldn’t stay very long, but she’s lucky I worked up the nerve to even go. Talk about triggering my agoraphobic issues and panic attacks. But she had fun doing crafts. And they had Paw Patrol characters walking around which she enjoyed,too.

I did NOT enjoy a two and a half hour wait trapped in the car with the “I’m bored, I want” monster. MOM MOM MOM MOM MOMMY MAMA MOM MOM MOM. She does not stop to take a breath, just keeps going on and on and on. Her mouth is the freaking battery bunny. And ya know, I needed 2 minutes of silence but…denied. We did go to a few cheap stores to browse and she told me what items she would like for xmas. She’d racked up about a hundred bucks alone at Dollar Tree. Geesh. Ya know, I want a 6’3 guy with long dark hair, green eyes, who loves metal music and horror movies but I know realistically it isn’t gonna happen. But the I Want monster tends to not live in the reality of our financial predicament. And she shouldn’t really have to but it is relevant to why I always have to say no to things. It’s not lack of interest or love or support or encouragement. It’s just that pretty much every activity she wants to do requires money I don’t have. Bummer, but hey, I guess my job in life is to be the downer who says no.

Everyone is like, giving me metaphoric high fives cos “You went and did all this stuff with the crowds and you didn’t die of a panic attack, it’s all in your head, get over it.” Well, derp, I know panic attacks won’t kill me. But one of my biggest issues is that my anxiety manifests physically and yesterday I was so stressed, I was sweating and I actually started to smell bad. And I put on antiperspirtant and deodorant four times, I used body spray, I used perfume, I wore clean clothes…But I could smell that distinct odor my nasty body emits when under severe stress. It isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s downright embarrassing. But I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked by my junk DNA. My skin is apparently toxic, with jewelry turning my skin green, or my years of rubbing off the stamped letters on pretty much every keyboard I;ve ever had (even the expensive laser etched one, guaranteed NOT to it.) Junk DNA, man.

I slept last night. Hard. I woke up a few times, briefly, and was acutely aware of my kid’s absence. When I did wake up right before ten, I didn’t really want to move cos both kittens had curled up under my arm and were just sleeping and purring. THAT is my warm fuzzy happy place. Purring cats. But I had to get up cos I told stepmonster I’d come help her set up her new modem. And I so didn’t want to.

I spent an hour on the phone with tech support only to learn…every device in the house, including my netbook and phone, a Kindle Fire, and a computer with XP, would connect. The problem is with her damn Windows 8 and that it is beyond my skillset. And she’s just like, “I’ll just go buy another one.” That’s fucking stupid. I told her to just move all her stuff to a flash drive and have my nephew reformat it with Windows 7. Wish I had the luxury of saying, “Oh, well, I’ll just go spend $300 on a new one.” Which will likely have Windows 10 and be an even bigger pain in the ass. (Fuck you, Windows and microsoft, Win 7 works just fucking fine, your ideas of improvement SUCK.)

One of the main reasons I didn’t want to go there to help is that they are loud and gross and I can’t focus. They use the bathroom with the door open. I was on the phone with tech support and my dad was belching in the background, then all 3 of them were talking over me so I had to ask the dude on the phone to repeat himself again and again. GAH. I can’t do chaos, I can’t do this whole redneck lack of basic decorum and manners thing. Close the fucking background door and if someone is on the phone, go belch in the other room, for fuck’s sake. Just…eww. To my credit, I didn’t blow a gasket when stepmonster referred to me as her daughter. That drives me fucking nuts cos she is 2 years younger than me, ffs, scientifically impossible for her to be my mom. And it’s disrespectful to my mom, who raised me and my sister while dad was always on the road and fucking around with his child hillbilly pseudo wife. It’s like a fucking episode of Springer,

Not that the other half of my family is any better. My sister and her husband were fighting over money yesterday. He apparently owes over $400 for weed he got on credit and everyone is all pissy about how he pays no bills and just…useless. And my mom has dementia and is always saying shit that isn’t true. Like when she said all me and Spook do is fight. NO, what I do is give her limits and discipline and she doesn’t like it so it makes her mad. I’m not here to be her friend, I am here to help mold her into a decent human as opposed to some sociopath. And she called me this morning saying she missed me. Then I told her dad and them were gonna pick her up around 4 and she yelled that was forever away and threw the phone down. And my mother of course took that as a sign that I can’t get along with my kid. But my mom was the yes monster, giving us little discipline, buying us off after her screaming tirades, letting our friends basically hang out 24-7, smoke cigarettes and eat our food. Guess a yes monster can’t relate to, ya know, an actual real parent.

Hmm…Yeah, I think that concludes today’s rant.I am going back to Fort Blankie and the mindless drone of Unsolved Mysteries. These social outings totally kick my ass and take days of vegging out to recover.

Meanwhile all this helliday cheer continues to poison my dark ghoulish heart and I wonder why can’t we just do away with all holidays and celebrate Halloween 365 days a year?

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