All I Want for Christmas is Your Two Front Teeth
I want to say something about punching you in the face and getting to keep the two teeth I knock outta you, but I can't really come up with any reason that I would do that. I just wanted to make a clever little play on words with the title of this section, because that's what I do. Anyway, the holidays are so interesting to me, because I love to observe people and people go nuts around the holidays. This has been my first holiday experience as a "grown-up," and being surrounded by all the madness has been pretty entertaining as well as enlightening. I've come to the conclusion that Christmas isn't that fun when you're an adult because you don't get toys. Toys are so badass. You pretty much always get what you want and then some, and toys are basically all you need when you're a kid. Your parents feed, clothe, and house you, so what else is there? Finding something to do with alllll your free time. And me? What do I want for Christmas at 23? My student loan paid off. An apartment to call my own. Groceries, a new wardrobe... all pretty lame and difficult Christmas gifts to give.
So this year, because I'm overly dramatic and because I already feel like I owe my parents too much, I asked for nothing. My catchphrase this season was, "There's too many things I want. So I might as well not get any of them, because it will just make me upset that I don't have them all." Ha. What a diva. It's all or nothing with me though. And I want to buy my own things. I know what I want and my wants are very specific. I don't want to be telling my family that I want a Denali thermal jacket by North Face in bittersweet brown, women's extra small. First of all I haven't tried it on yet, what if I like fissure green better? Second, how much does that ruin the magic of Christmas and shit, knowing exactly what you're getting because you had to go with your mom to the store to show her exactly which one you want?
I love getting things that are clever, that I didn't realize I wanted. Maybe that's because that's the type of gift I love to give, though. I would always rather give gifts than get them, which is a helluva ironic statement coming from me since I love just having things. But I absolutely adore finding those gifts for my loved ones that they wouldn't think to get for themselves. It's hard for people to do that for me, since I want everything and am constantly reminding myself of things that I could maybe possibly use at least once. But ! It did happen this year! I came home from work one day with a package from my great friend waiting for me. I was absolutely in awe as I opened the box to find a music box that plays "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." I had never seen a music box before, at least on its own outside of an actual jewelry box, and I sat and played it over and over and over, completely mesmerized by the whole affair. Now that's a great gift.
I'm a Mean One...
I know, you are probably expecting me to roll out the holiday cynicism, because it's just so classic for a sardonic blogger living with her parents and trying to pay off her student loans to be a big scrooge. And I thought about it, I really did. But truth is, I love the holidays. I love any excuse to believe in magic and watch sentimental Coke commercials and eat twenty pounds of fudge. And I know that a lot of times the build-up to Christmas can be so stressful, and then we only take that one day to "relax" if that's what you want to call it, and then after, when the feeling is gone, the stress is upon making promises to yourself that you'll do better for the next year. So instead here's my Day-After Boxing Day, inspirational (and occasionally comical) story.
But My Heart Grew Three Sizes That Day!
I have an aunt Sissy. She's my dad's sister, and quite a bit older than he is, so when he was growing up he called her "Sissy" and it stuck - everyone in the family has always known her as Sissy.
Sissy was 77 years old this year, and she's been losing it for quite a few years now but her Alzheimer's has been getting exceptionally bad recently. Alzheimer's is really weird because people who have it remember a lot about the past, but they don't remember what they had for breakfast. And lately, as Sissy told me about five times, there are getting to be so many cousins and kids in my family that she can't keep track of them. The saddest part about Sissy's condition, in my opinion, is that everybody leaves her alone. They stick her in the corner, and occasionally some people stroll on by, say "Merry Christmas Sissy," then scamper away so that they don't get stuck talking to her for thirty minutes. And that's the way she is: she'll talk to you for hours if you just listen to her and chime in every once in a while.
At our huge family gathering yesterday, I went and sat next to Sissy for a couple of reasons: one, I don't really like talking to the rest of my family members, because all I ever end up talking about is "my plans", and "what I'm doing with my life", bullshit bullshit blah blah blah. Two, I was two glasses of wine deep into this shindig, and Sissy can be pretty entertaining. But mostly, Sissy is sort of an outcast, just like I always am at these functions, and us outcasts always tend to be able to understand one another.
So, I'm not sure how the subject got started. I think Sissy said something about Beverly, her sister, never wanting to talk to strangers. "Beverly would never talk to a stranger. That would be the last thing on earth she'd ever do, god forbid, Beverly talks to a stranger." It went something like that. Now, I mentioned that Sissy always tells the same stories over and over, but I hadn't ever really heard (or maybe listened) about her love for talking to strangers. I mean it's always been pretty obvious, since she talks to people everywhere we go, at the vet, on the bus, etc. But I've always focused on how the other people react, or on myself, being embarassed - I had never really thought about how Sissy might feel. And to hear her talk about it, she just lights up. "I just... love to talk to people."
She told me stories about being in the army during the Korean War, 1955-56. She was a nurse, and it really was what she loved to do. She told me it was worth it even when she lost soldiers, because saving someone's life would make up for it. She loved saving people, she said. And she would talk to the soldiers, even if they were gonna die, she said, because most people just want someone to talk to.
I told her I've always wanted to be that person who could talk to strangers really easily, but that I've always just been too embarrassed to put myself out there. "What's the worst that could happen?" she said, "they don't wanna talk, you get up and move on to the next person." She gave me valuable tips for talking to people. First, you have to observe a person for a while, so that you can observe something about them in order to strike up a conversation. Sissy says that even if it doesn't seem like there's any common ground, there is. She gave an example, "Say you're on the bus. And you're sitting next to someone, you turn to them and say, 'Dang, this is a boring-ass bus ride, isn't it?" (I might be paraphrasing the "boring-ass" part but you get the picture.) You've "opened a door," as Sissy says. She was incredibly insightful. She said you always focus on the other person. That way your attitude is always, "You don't know where I'm coming from and I don't know what you're talking about, but hey, we're here to talk about you." She noted the importance of learning to communicate in the same way that the person you're talking to does. Sure, she didn't say it that fancy, but the way that she was so passionate about her love for strangers made me understand it all so easily. Her closing remark? "How do you know if you don't ever try?"
So while Sissy sits in her corner of the room and hums to herself - so absentmindedly that I'm pretty sure she has no idea she's even doing it - I learn to care a little less about what people think of me. And I look forward to learning even more from the strangers that I happen to meet along the way.
I'm Too Old
A final little Sissy anecdote: a couple of months ago, my dad and I went to pick Sissy up from her community to take her cat to the vet. We found her and some others in a movie room watching the movie It's Complicated with Meryl Streep, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. As someone escorts her from the movie to our care, Sissy says, "Thank god you came and got me, I was starting to hate that movie. I don't like all that sexy stuff." And the woman escorting her, who also happens to be a nun, explains to my father in a concerned whisper, "Sir, I just want you to know, that this is a Catholic institution, and we would never show a fim that was inappropriate in any way. It's rated PG."
So last night, my brother and I are sitting by Sissy, and she says, "Beverly never takes me to movies anymore." I ask her why not, and she says, "Well, I can't handle all the swearing, and the sexy stuff. I'm too old for this crap!" And I laugh so hard and for so long, along with my brother, that everyone in the room starts giving us the stink eye, but I don't give a shit. So instead, I say to my brother that I wish I had a recording of her saying that so that I can set it as my text message notification. So what does he do? Asks her to repeat what she said, which she gladly does. And with that, the closing remark of my lengthy holiday post:
I apologize for not having any pictures this time. I'll draw extras for the next one or something. I hope you had a Merry Christmas :))
I apologize for not having any pictures this time. I'll draw extras for the next one or something. I hope you had a Merry Christmas :))
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