In Memoriam

Benazir Bhutto
1953 - 2007

My Personal "A Christmas Carol"

Despite my rants about almost ending up with a Christmas tree, I still eventually ended up with a 5 feet monstrosity last week; barely 24 hours after snubbing Christmas. I must admit it does light up an otherwise empty corner in the living room. Less than a week later, the lights stopped working like they were intended and starting flashing harshly in an alarming manner. So that means more money needs to be forked out for new lights. Altogether I spent less than RM150 on a religious holiday that wasn't even mine to celebrate. But that's alright, I thought, maybe I just needed to get into the spirit of things and be a little less Ebenezer Scrooge for once. I had been disillusioned with Christmas since I outgrew my childhood. I think it started with the day my mom refused to put up the Christmas tree anymore which I believe is still in storage somewhere in the attic storage, being a gecko maternity hospital judging from the eggshells we find there each year when we do open the box.

"It would just be a fur trap," she said. The three dogs who were the main culprits for the furballs had long since passed on. The current two, one is practically a walking mop and the other had hair too short to gather furballs. Still, the old plastic tree stayed where it rests today - its memory so dim I could hardly remember how it looked like other than the fact it was probably colourful and tacky due to lack of a theme. So perhaps it was in memory of this forsaken childhood tree that I set the current one up in my present home. And that my folks is the allegory of the Ghost of Christmas Past paying me a visit.

So since now I have a tree, I thought perhaps I should expand on it and go on with the pot-luck party which I had been half-heartedly planning since 2 months ago. So for once maybe I could break a successive chain of depressive Christmasses by livening it up with friends. I even had a wonderful idea of using the tree to start a Christmas tradition for years to come. Maybe everyone could bring a special ornament of their own to put on the tree each year to mark their attendance. So gleefully I shared my idea with friends, but much to my dismay, all but one so far was enthusiastic about the idea. ONE. So screw you, Ghost of Christmas Present. Anybody thinking of making this idea of mine work, let me know. But please don't do this out of sympathy - I'm doing this to bring friends together and as a thanksgiving of sorts for each other. With Christmas looming less than a week away, I have a feeling that tree is going to stay empty for this year.

And if the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come decides to pay me a visit, I am slamming a spade flat out on his f*cking boney face.

Stupid Tree Hugger

My favourite love-hate season is around the corner. I love it for the cosy and nostalgic mood it evokes and I hate it because I can never get cosy and the nostalgia makes me depressed. It's Christmas time folks, the season where everybody celebrates a holiday that nobody truly remembers what for. Originally to commemorate the birth of Christ whom bible historians believe was not even really born on December, 25th but probably somewhere in July. But thanks to the manipulations of the church, it was somehow moved to coincide with pagan winter festivals - probably to con pagans into converting. Seriously, so men gets to decide the Son-of-God's (who is suppose to be God's embodiment in the flesh but if that is the case why is God his own son?) birthday now? That aside, what are we really celebrating in Christmas anyway? I think Santa Claus and his gay elves are higher on the popularity list compared to Jesus on a holiday to remember his own birth.

Sorry, I am rambling and diverging from the original topic. Last night after feeling relatively disappointed and neglected over some issues, out of an inexplicable urge I almost ended up with a faux Christmas tree. For some reason I always liked these holiday monstrosities that cost a bomb and is only displayed once a year before being relegated to some obscure corner of the storeroom till one year later. I had the freaking 5 feet thing in my arms and was practically shopping for trimmings before I came to my senses. What the hell am I to do with a Christmas tree in a tiny suburban flat where pathetically single me lives alone and nobody ever bothers to visit (except when it suits their convenience)? I WASN'T EVEN A CHRISTIAN! I chucked the bloody thing in disgust back into its bin and got away from it as far as possible before my senses threaten to lapse again. Bear in mind I was at it for a full 30 minutes before logic finally surfaced.

I love/hate Christmas. It makes me feel funny. I don't like feeling funny. It's a time that makes me feel like spending quality time with loved ones when I would rather be left alone. The sight of Christmas trees makes me sigh, and then I feel like torching every single one I see with a flamethrower. It's the time of the year when my bed feels empty the most. What am I doing on that ruddy day? Screaming at gym members to pedal faster. Here's another Merry F*cking Christmas to me.

You Got Served

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Seriously, after dozens of times being regularly taken for granted I rarely ever take it to heart. And I am beginning to feel like a total idiot. I have a friend who has a bad habit of making me look like a gate-crasher by making me go to functions, gatherings and parties which I am not invited to. I have my suspicions on his intentions of doing so, but I shall not elaborate. Usually I will turn up, despite huge misgivings and much protest, solely because I take the role of "friend" way too seriously. So most of the time I end up in events where I stood up like a sore thumb with most attendees wondering why I was even there in the first place among unfamiliar peers - possibly questioning amongst themselves if I was actually even invited. Out goes my dignity through the window like a ready whore with legs akimbo.

And so came one day when I decided he should return the favour, though not in the same manner as gate-crashing. It was just doing something for someone he knew anyway. And the reply I got was:

"No. He asked you not me."

The very same words I use - every time he cajoles me into gate-crashing. Suffice to say, I wasn't amused. Snapping back would be pointless since he would just go on the defensive and behave like I just had something sandpaper-y and hard shoved up my ass and not worth paying any attention to. Someone just put me out of my misery already.