Much Obliged, Thanks (But No Thanks)

Merry belated Christmas to you all, and I hope you spent it in whatever manner you found enjoyable. Christmas is an interesting time for a multitude of reasons. Somewhere between the traditional holiday drinks and the intensive meals and the tinseling, underlying pathologies bubble to the surface. Or so they say. In my family, a hybrid family tradition is emerging that is quite fun all in itself.

First off, we celebrate the 24th, not the 25th. The kids all open the presents on the morning of the 25th, but the big feast and wearing of red occurs on the 24th. We eat fish, not turkey, so there is considerably less fartiness and loginess following our big meal. My Czech-Canadian brother in law has brought his dad's tradition of double Manhattans into our family, so needless to say we all managed to get nice and sauced. This was quite hilarious, as we're not big drinkers in my family and haven't all been drunk together in over ten years since my sister's wedding. I staggered off to bed and have no recollection of taking out my contacts, changing into pjs, etc. I just remember having a spirited conversation with my sister one moment, and then passing out in a stupor on the couch in the next.

The next morning we all looked a little worse for wear. Much festive popping of ye olde Advil, my sister retching in the bathroom, much careful sipping of water and slow making of coffee. I was mostly fine, that is until I broke through the jungle gym at the park later that day and sprained my arm. Ow. That's the risk one runs as a childless woman in a playground, I suppose. My lack of recent experience showed in the cavalier way I climbed. Heedless fool!

At the indignity of incurring a jungle gym injury, I retreated back to the couch to nap and read in a desultory fashion and send texts to my dear gentleman caller. Our communications are carefully but surely growing affectionate. We allude to missing one another, contain our excitement about the fun we are envisioning as we plan a weekend Date in the city in the new year, and hasten to objectify the other sexually lest we fear we are growing too sentimental for what we still cling to as "the Arrangement". Both of us are still distasteful of the trappings of a Relationship, but admittedly we are going that way with our long conversations and solicitous check-ins and compliments, etc. As long as the sex is mandatory at our meetings, goes the thinking, we're okay. Fair dinkum.

Anyway, this is a nice obligation in my books. Most obligations are not, and increasingly I grow intolerant of the tension arising from a misplaced sense of duty and attendant flakiness. Case in point: my mother's boyfriend and his 20-year old son were supposed to join us for Christmas.. The son revolted at the last minute, however, and refused to come as he did not feel comfortable. As his mother is playing him an extended mind-fuck as only a Polack mother of a single boychild can do, it is understandable.

His father went into a veritable tizzy about it, while on my side of the family, there was a collective shrug. (Greedily, I at once realized there likely would be leftover prawns resulting from our diminished numbers, and rejoiced accordingly). We are becoming more philosophical as a family unit, perhaps, as we've seens divorces and awkwardness and family secrets come and go. We are not in any rush to have them come again. The kids are older and becoming real humans, I'm no longer coupled to a headcase, and we're all doing pretty well financially and emotionally and physically. Let's celebrate with a good meal and too many drinks in fancy clothes, and by god, let's not have any obligations at the table. Causes indigestion, and who wants to spend precious down-time breaking emotional wind?

With the goal of avoiding emotional gassiness, both mine and that of others, I look forward to the next several days of skiing and working a bit and organizing my physical surroundings so I can enter the new year all shiny and sharp. Enjoy the season! And know that you are under no obligation to check in with me in the new year.

Merrily yours, G

PS Oh, I did have a lovely sleepover with Guyfriend last weekend. Long conversation till the wee hours looking out onto Robson St from our fancy hotel room, eating sandwiches and salad; sleeping together as cosy as cousins in a giant bed, and the usual breakkie and walkabout the next day before he departed for the Interior. Yes, it was bemusing as well, to find myself wishing I had the hotel room with my gentleman caller. To find myself not even attracted to a man I'd once pined for sexually. To find a solid friendship more solid than ever due to this lack of attraction, and be pleased about it while at the same time a tiny bit mournful. The romance between us was delirious when it lasted, but unhealthy and even toxic (much like double Manhattans). Mostly though, I'm pleased as punch to find my twinship intact after the dust has settled, and to be intrigued by this Other Thing.