A Curious Girl: Christmas

Lead-up to Christmas was interesting. Went to see Harry Potter with Chris and the amorous Donald on Saturday - excellent film!!! Donald, afterwards, kept saying 'We should do this again sometime' (me mentally adds in 'although if Helen can't make it because of work we could just go with each other, Christina...'). Didn't have the heart to tell him he was more transparent than the invisible man.

Sunday I attempted to do all the rest of my Christmas shopping in the half an hour before work. Got cards for everyone at home (although annoyingly, there was a 'sister and boyfriend' card, a 'sister and brother-in-law' card, but no 'sister and her fiance' card so never mind... Sorry Jonathan), but didn't get a present for Mum... so I did all that on Christmas Eve, as is traditional, nearby instead of at that shopping temple where my workplace is located. Wasn't crowded, thankfully, so I bought Mum an artificial plant. I got her a real one for her birthday and it died. Considering that the poinsettia and bonsai were also looking a little sick, I figured I'd get her one that wouldn't die. Got a little something for my bruv, too :-)

Carol service on Sunday was nice - cakes/coffee afterward, so James dragged me to help with the washing up. Wished everyone I could Merry Christmas and left eventually! Decided to turn off my computer for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day so I could focus on more important things, so I detached my keyboard for a bit. At least I only got one bit of spam during the time my computer was off. It meant I couldn't finish my Christmassy story, but I promise to have it done before new year. Well, Twelfth night.

Christmas day... it should have been joyful and happy. I was feeling fairly optimistic. OK, so I couldn't go to my church on Christmas day, but I was going to go to a more nearby one, that I'd been to a few times before.

Christmas day dawned all right. I'm going to try and not feel sorry for myself, I already know that Duck had a worse Christmas day than I did. Just I think that maybe I should remember this Christmas day. I knew things were going to be difficult when everyone seemed to be getting on each other's nerves. Luckily this was mainly down to the fact that my house was going to be the base for our Christmas celebrations. And to be fair to my family, they did an excellent job. It wasn't particularly their fault that I felt the way I did. Clive took me to church, and I remembered what Christina said about Christmas day at church. 'She doesn't know how lucky she is,' I thought. 'She can see her friends, celebrate God's wonderful love with her family (yeah, I admit that for all I know they could have spent the day bickering more than my family did), not have to go to church on her own to celebrate it with people she hardly knows.' Tutted myself. 'On no account are you to start crying, OK? It's Christmas day!' (I often talk to myself in this way, probably not healthy but never mind). Got to church, only to discover they'd started twenty minutes earlier and were having a half hour service. I didn't have a copy of the words either, and standing on my own, isolated, with nothing to do, say, sing, feel... yup, the tears came. Someone gave me their words to sing from. At the end of the service, everyone went to their happy groups to chat and laugh and celebrate, and I went to the toilets to wipe my tears away, only it didn't work because the damn things kept coming. How can I be happy about God's amazing love and generosity in sending his son to us when my family refuse to believe it? Yes, I'm pleased about that, but I so want to see them rejoice about it too, instead of ignoring it.

A woman saw me crying - I'd seen her a couple of times before. She'd had the same problems with her family when she was young. I was glad to feel a bit of companionship with someone, and they offered me a lift home - I would have had to walk home. My parents thought that my crying was because I missed the service. I'm glad they thought that... I don't want my tears to persuade them to any state of mind, I pray that they can know God themselves.

The rest of the day was... average. We had a nice time, good presents, couple of fun games. The best bit was watching Toy Story and playing with my three small cousins. I love their innocence. They're so precious.

I thought - what is this about, anyway? What are we celebrating? We weren't celebrating anything, not even our good fortune in having each other. That's the sadness of it all...

Random word for today:

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