We opened some presents today. Just a couple. Doc got me a bottle of premium gourmet popping corn and a mini air popper. Yay! Caramel corn! It was not any of the things I mentioned that he get me, not even close. It was something I said a few months ago I wish I had because I hate the fake flavoring and grease on microwave popcorn. I like a bit of real butter and my cinnamon/sugar blend. So, now I can have it! And popcorn drizzled with chocolate, and the aforementioned caramel popcorn and marshmallow popcorn treats. happygrin He always manages to surprise me pleasantly. Goes way above my expectations. I was thinking a Doctor Who Lego Mini Set or a stuffed animal. This is so much cooler because it is a kitchen thing. And I can reuse it over and over and it is also really cute because it’s a mini-popper.
We found new headphones for me. I don’t know if I mentioned that right after I got my replacements, the left side went out. And I don’t have a soldering iron. So, there’s $10 sitting on the desk. I can use them when recording because I only need one ear. But for listening . . . I had one request, inline volume control. I need to amplify my laptop. The ones I found are rounded rectangular, totally retro. They even are painted to look like they are enameled like the old bright colored stoves, with chrome-look accents. They rock. I will walk around the neighborhood with my thug dog and my retro headphones proudly.
Doc’s parent’s, or rather, his mom, sent him a basket of his favorite packaged foods. She doesn’t even try for me anymore, though I was always grateful and sent her thank you cards. She’s his mommy, not mine. I wonder what mine is doing. I haven’t heard from her since October, my dad shortly after. I imagine she’d tell me if anyone died, but I’m really not counting on it. She’s Maleficent without the cheekbones and heart. She’s the Disney Maleficent. You know, the big-ass dragon?
I kind of see Doc’s point about making Christmas a non-holiday. I think next year, I’ll take the whole holiday off. I’ve been clinging to glimpses of childhood memories and emotions, trying to recapture them, and I can’t. And what would I do with them if I did? I have enough to do with keeping up with the here and now without pieces of the past transporting in to fuck shit up. It may very well be a convention I can enjoy from a distance and eventually do without. I’ve torn myself apart over letting people down this holiday. It doesn’t allow for life, it just charges forward at you like a train and you are tied to the track. I can’t do this again. I’ve turned gift-giving into an art form of pain and misery. It shouldn’t be like this.