Posts Tagged ‘cage’

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what christmas means to me.

December 20, 2009

I remember when I was little I would count down the days to Christmas Day so eagerly.  About the 22nd December, I would be so excited I couldn’t sleep.  And then on the day itself, I’d be up ridiculously early, eager to open my presents and be spoiled for the day before we would go to my nan’s for a big Christmas lunch, relax in front of the television watching one film or another while my mum and my nan chatted, my grandfather slept and my dad made a nuisance of himself in one way or another.  Eventually we would go home to wait for the inevitable boredom that was Boxing Day. But overall, it’d be a lovely day and hold the type of memories I’ll always cherish.

I guess it’s called growing up, but I don’t feel at all the same now.  Part of it is that those memories are irreplaceable – my grandfather is now dead, my grandmother is in Australia this year, and the year before last spent the day in hospital with my granddad, and my father is the one who cooks now (nowhere near as well, though it’s ok) and we eat here at home.  There’s no eagerness to open my presents, and since my parents don’t seem bothered by what I get them, they wait until 11am or something ridiculous like that just so that I can see their faces and suss out whether they really like their gifts.  In other words, the childhood traditions of Christmas are completely broken and gone; we do things differently now, and sometimes I wonder if I was the only one who ever enjoyed Christmas.

Nowadays, I dread the day itself.  There’s nothing to watch on TV, there’s nowhere to go that isn’t parent-sponsored (my friends are all busy with their families, obviously; there aren’t any buses and as I don’t yet have a car – something which I’m looking to change in the very near future – I am essentially home-bound), the sanity of my nan’s conversation and the scrumptiousness of her cooking is poorly imitated by my father.  And I feel bad for saying that, because it’s not that his cooking is bad; it’s not. It’s perfectly edible, but it’s not the same.  I have a lot of my own issues with food, eating food and generally feeling guilty for it. (Another down side to Christmas – every cigarette I have is under surveillance, so I am currently eating more and smoking less.  Not good for my figure, nor my state of mind!) But nevertheless I am always eager to taste my nan’s cooking – it is that good (I like to call it the Italian influence) that even though I exercise restraint in size of portions, I eat more than I otherwise would.  Her food has a certain feeling of safety to it that is comforting and yet vibrant and actively tangible; my father’s food just feels fake and bland in comparison.  That’s just Christmas Day – this year I plan to be talking to Mike (who is a real Scrooge!  I’m certainly not as bad as he is – he actively hates it) and complaining in unison, and quite possibly working on my essay.  Hell, there’s nothing else to do.

Nowadays, my favourite part of Christmas is buying everyone’s presents.  I couldn’t really care less what people get me, as I appreciate anyone thinking about me enough to get me a present, and I don’t tell people what to get me as everything I actively want is invariably too expensive, and I wouldn’t be happy with people (not even my parents) spending that much money on me.  I prefer to buy jewellery and expensive items with my own money, because then it’s my own decision and I’m not bound to being grateful to anyone.  The thing I enjoy about buying people’s presents is the rush and buzz in the shops, the feeling that Christmas is here (maybe it’s left over from my days working in retail – which I am still so glad are over) and most of all, choosing the right gift for somebody so that it will genuinely make them happy and let them know I have not only put thought into what I’ve chosen for them, but that I value them as a friend.  This year I have spent a bit more money than usual and than I intended, but since I have my bursary from university, I can afford it 😉 Hell, if I can afford my Gucci earrings and bracelet (which FINALLY came on Wednesday after a 3-month wait!), I can afford splashing out an extra few £ for my friends.  I take pleasure and pride in that, and I believe that as much as I deserve to be treated, so do they.  We all should allow ourselves to feel good, and allow our friends to shine a little sunshine our way every now and then.

But the meaning of Christmas has changed.  This year at university has been something I’ve enjoyed so much, I plan to go into the library over the holiday just to see Mike and do some work – it fills the time! I can barely stand to be at home anymore unless I have the house to myself, because I feel like I’m in a cage that isn’t allowed to co-exist comfortably in the same room as my parents.  I go to Starbucks most days when I have free time just to work on my essay – it has the double bonus of allowing me to escape the house & have some cigarettes, and I actually seem to get a fair amount of work done there.  (The unfortunate drawback is that I consume a beverage that contains calories – though I always go for skinny, so I guess it’s not too bad.) I like being around people, I like being close to my friends, and the fact that I have this essay to work on means that I have something to focus my energy on.  I don’t know if it’s that my attention span is getting shorter as I grow older, but I cannot stand to simply sit in front of the television and vacate my brain.  I need my laptop near me at the same time as I am watching anything just so that I can talk to friends and surf the internet – my nan jokes that I am constantly multitasking, but it is true!  I don’t know if it’s that I don’t know how to relax, but most of the time I don’t really feel the need to relax, because I’d rather be on the go.  And I guess that that’s at the heart of the problem – at Christmas, there’s just not enough to do that keeps me entertained!  I don’t dislike Christmas, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve realised that the soft-focus memories of my childhood aren’t enough to hold my attention anymore, even if they were still able to be replicated (which they’re beyond not).  I don’t need gifts anymore, and I don’t need to watch a silly film on the TV while eating x, y and z.  That’s not me. Fundamentally, what I want from Christmas more than anything is to spend time with my friends, get out of the house and go somewhere and talk, be silly and have fun.

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i keep it to myself.

November 1, 2009

I remember this song by Monica from her The Boy Is Mine album back in the day.  Although it wasn’t my favourite song from the album, I could resonate a lot with the idea of having a crush on somebody but not ever being able to bring yourself to admit it.  I’ve been in that situation a lot in my life, and guess what! I’m there again.

I’m not going to name any names on here, just in case the wrong person sees it (it’s unlikely, but I don’t want to take any chances).  After B, R, and any other initial you can care to name, I thought that I might have given up falling (or learned NOT to fall) for inappropriate people. When I say inappropriate, they’re either mentally or emotionally unstable, or unavailable for whatever reason – I think that that umbrella covers more or less all the experiences I’ve had in the past couple of years.  Oh, unless they were idiots.  And then I start to wonder, is it me?  Do I unconsciously seek out people with whom it just won’t work?  Is this an act of self-sabotage? Am I some sort of masochist?

Maybe, maybe not.  I mean, the latest thing I’m going through is different.  I’ve formed such a close bond with this person, it’s crazy, and I admire him and look up to him so much.  I wish that I could be like him one day (except he can’t spell “tommorrow” or “definately”. But apart from that.), the way he is with people.  He’s so strong and has a wicked sense of humour, and yet he’s so observant and sincere underneath. Plus, he may be older, but he’s pretty hot. Okay, enough gushing.  So I thought this crush was gonna be a phase, but apparently not – I can’t stop dreaming about him, I can’t stop thinking about him, the only time I feel normal anymore is when we are texting or when we are together.  It’s really bad, and it stomps all over the other people I’ve dated / not dated / been interested in the last couple of years.  It revolutionises everything for me, and reminds me of the once or twice I felt like I was approaching feeling in love when I was a teenager.  And yet, obviously I can’t tell him – not only is he very not single, but I can’t ruin the strong friendship we’ve established.  I’m not willing to do that, and so I keep it to myself.

Occasionally it hurts, but more than anything, our bond and our camaraderie keep me going.  We’ve gotten to a level of flirtation that is a bit weird (considering he is straight and attached) but it’s a lot of fun and I enjoy it, it makes me feel good.  I guess that I feel safe around him – not that I feel vulnerable walking around every day, but I feel that when we’re together, we’re popular and the leaders of our group and sorta untouchable.  I know people’s eyes are on us, and I also know that people think we are inseparable. That’s okay.  I don’t think people (apart from the couple whom I’ve told) know I have a crush on him – we are just real good friends, and as much as I look for him whenever he’s around, I know he does the same for me too.  It’s a 50/50 relationship, and it would be ideal!  Except it can never be.  That’s the only sting in the tail, but although sometimes I do feel a little bit down about it, I wouldn’t trade our friendship and the bond we’ve established in so short a time for the world.  I’m really lucky.

But again, because I don’t wanna risk anything going wrong, I’m not going to say anything.  I come home and feel empty, and my parents have their own problems and their own business.  We sorta exist around each other and orbit each other, with no real problems, but they have no desire to interact with me unless I have done something to inconvenience them, so I keep myself to myself at home.  And it does feel lonely.  My friends are supportive, and I really appreciate that so much, but there’s only so much that they can do – I’m looking to move out somehow and just get a bit more independence.  Free myself from that situation, because although I would end up being on my own, I would somehow feel less lonely because I would be less caged.  I think that even though I might be on my own, that would be my choice and the empowerment I’d get from that would make up for it.  Plus, I tend to get on better with my parents (and they seem to appreciate me more) from a distance.  But until that time comes, I keep my frustration with this whole situation to myself also.  I told Mike that it would be tempting to just move out, change my number and not tell my family where I was going – but it would just result in worrying them too much and they’d probably turn up at university or something looking for me.  I want to minimise the drama – that’s the whole point of having this plan – but until I can put it in motion, secrecy is the way forward.  Perhaps that’s a bit fucked up, but I haven’t got any time for people who can’t keep their mouths shut when it’s the appropriate thing to do.  So I try to have a sense of decorum about love and about life, and keep the right things to myself.