Skip navigation

Back again?

Not Shady, that’s who.

Ayyy, it’s been a while! I have tons of work that I should be getting done, but who has two thumbs, (probably) mild clinical depression, and difficulty expressing her feelings to actual people?

Wow, you guessed it. How did you know.

Nah, but for reals, I’m back, mostly because I’m cranky, and I got feels that I would like to share but feel too weird about actually sharing.

So since my emotional maturity has regressed to high school stages, what better place to air this out than where my journey into shameful oversharing began? Besides, all the actually dumb shit has been locked so tight even I don’t remember how to open it, so I think we’re fine.

Welcome back 2009!Grace, the whining you loved, but with new and improved dank memes! #dicksout #sunsoutgunsout #whatguns

But for real reals, I’m currently trying to convince myself that this is an improvement over pouring everything out into a private Word document because:

  1. This saves my annoying thoughts in *the cloud*, which is probably better for posterity than my hard drive
  2. Publishing this for public access means I have to describe everything through a remove-personal-information filter, which might(?) help me emotionally detach from the situation to aide processing.

Aight, so here’s the deal. As I have mentioned before, Christmas is a special time for me and my homegirls (please don’t actually call us that). Not because Christmas itself is special to me at all, besides the potential for dope presents and mild-to-intense religious disagreements. No, Christmas is a time when nearly everyone goes home to see the fam, and by extension, each other (and also get days off).

Ever since university hit, naturally, the annual get-together has had increasingly poor attendance. And “Christmas sleepover” has slowly evolved from “silly high school sleepover” to “casual dinner get-together with maybe some wine but not too much because most people drive home to sleep in their own beds”. In a few years, I’m sure it will slowly become “dinner and then, ooh, sorry, we’d like to stay later but the babysitter is paid by the hour”. And somehow I missed the fun transition stage when it was “everyone gets wasted on mulled wine and hard cider and eggnog”…maybe we’re just not that type of group.

Anyway, this year is no different, what with me being halfway across the sea. But it’s mid-November, so the question in the group chat gets asked: “can you make it?”, and my answer is obviously: nope.

Fine, Grace can’t come. But Other-out-of-province friend might be able to make it, so let’s plan this get-together, trying to mesh together the schedules of 10-ish busy people, some of whom have an annoyingly high-paying job. And I mean annoyingly in that it pays well enough to support SOMEBODY’S annoying habit of LEAVING THE COUNTRY every chance she gets (you know who you are) (but for real, congrats on the job, please take me with you on your trips? Just pay for my airfare and accommodation, I won’t even make eye contact with you the whole time, you won’t even know I’m there).

So yeah, planning, planning, for an event I can’t attend, but it’s fine, I like lurking in group chats, even if I’m not contributing…makes me feel included, like a happy cat in a basket of plush toys. Included, yet creepy, like a happy cat hiding in a basket of plush toys, waiting to bust out and pounce on the human who feeds me.

But then Out-of-province friendo #3 chimes in, “heeyyy, sorry can’t come gonna stay out-of-province with that fam this year kthxhavefunbyeeeeee” (tone has been significantly altered in this transcription).

And what follows? “awwwww, we’ll miss you friendo!” “it won’t be the same without you friendo!” “i hate that you’re missing another Christmas with us friendo!” “hearts!”

I mean, I realize why my response didn’t get…a response, but what am I, chopped liver??

[warning…in an already pretty salty post, there is increased salt ahead]

Look, she’s missing out on Christmas willingly, to spend time with family. At least she gets to experience the warmth of familial social interaction to help thaw the frigid hell of winter. So of course, it’s “aww, such a shame!”.

And me? It’s not like I could have come home but chose not to. Could I have come? Let’s see…I’m stuck in a foreign country. Stuck in a foreign country that doesn’t even have the decency to have warmer winters. Stuck in a foreign country that doesn’t really celebrate Christmas. So yeah, not by choice.

And like I said, I don’t do Christmas. Christmas has no meaning to me, in and of itself, save for one very special reason (no, not the friendship gatherings, actually). But, it is the wonderful year of our lord, 2016. Do you know why 2016 is such a wonderful year? (Trump) Because BOTH Christmas AND New Year’s Day are on weekends. And, since I’m in a country that doesn’t really celebrate those days, do you know what that means for me? I GET NO FUCKING DAYS OFF!

YEAH! WHILE EVERYONE ELSE I KNOW WILL BE OFF, CLOSING UP THE OFFICE, GOING ON VACATION, SLEEPING IN, DO YOU KNOW WHAT I’LL BE DOING??? WORKING NORMAL MONDAY-TO-FRIDAY WORK WEEKS, THAT’S WHAT!

But no, Grace doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so we don’t have to acknowledge that Grace will be missing our Christmas this year. She’ll just be across the sea, working, suffering, while we’ll be happily enjoying each other’s company without her. (see, I told you it would get salty).

And believe me, I could write a whoooole other post’s worth, rationalizing why my feeling put out is dumb and irrational. I’ve done it before. But right now, all I wanna do is scream my petty and immature rage into the void. There is a time and a place for gaslighting myself into invalidating my own feelings, but that’s not as entertaining as the salt. So I’ll just post the salt.

So yeah, this entire post was because I got minorly ignored in a group chat thread.

But that’s me. I don’t like to impose my personal feelings, but I still want to impose, so I do in the most roundabout manipulative way possible. I post it publicly, but secretly, so if it ever gets read, my feeling have been imposed, but now it is entirely the fault of you, the reader, for choosing read this shit at all. HAH, CHECKMATE, I WIN!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: