26 December
And a fine, fine Christmas it was, too!
I had a very weird night's sleep, waking every few hours because I was burping so much (I have no idea why), but I finally woke up for my stocking at 8.45a, which is pretty late for me on Christmas morning.
I have a foot high gold tinsel tree that I put on the table at the head of my bed, and Santa puts my stocking under it (I have never seen anyone else do it, so I can only assume that it's Santa). I got a new red velvet stocking a couple of years ago, and I do miss the floppy old red cloth one with the bells, but I have gotten used to the new one.
Inside it was a pair of green frog earrings, St. Bart's In a Bar soap from Dr. Rappaport (yay! Soap!!), three pins, one saying "I'm not messy, I'm creative!", a potato shaped one saying "Idaho" and an Idaho shaped one with the Real seal, and one curly gold earring (not real gold, and the other one is being repaired), six tapes of old time radio shows, The Six Shooter, CBS Radio Mystery Theatre, Rocky Jordan, Two Thousand Plus, Buck Rogers and Terry and the Pirates (I am especially pleased about The Six Shooter, as Jimmy Stewart was on that show and I love it), and three silver chains of varying lengths and styles, along with a silver chain bracelet.
Very cool stocking.
Then I went downstairs and called Nik to wish his answering machine a merry Christmas, but he was there! "Why are you there?" were the first words out of my mouth, as he was supposed to be at a family friend's house, but he couldn't get out there until today.
While we were on the phone, he opened my present, which was that explorer, Antarctica, North Pole, whatever book that Rob Rummel-Hudson was raving about awhile back (can't remember the title!), and it sounded exactly like the kind of book that Nik, aka National Geographic Boy, would really love, and he really seemed pleased.
I told him about the stitches in my nose and the purple thumbnail and how I fell in the bathtub the day before, and he said "Come home. It's too dangerous for you in LA."
Then Mom and I booked over to 10a mass.
Of course, the whole church was packed with all of those C&E Catholics (Christmas and Easter), so we were overflowed into the chapel on the stage right side of the altar.
I never knew that this chapel existed (Mom says it's where they had the mass said for Daddy, but I wasn't around for that), but it was wonderful! I guess that it was the chapel of the Blessed Virgin, since she was on all three stained glass windows, as well as on the altar where the crucifix would normally be.
There were dozens of white poinsettias, and the chandeliers were like gardens. The heat wasn't on in there, so it was cold as all get out, but it was really swell.
It was very interesting watching the mass from that angle.
We were right by Altar Boy/Girl Central so we got to see them do their thing all close up, which was really neat. I wanted to be an altar boy so much when I was a kid. I sure wish that girls had been allowed to serve back then.
It was a choir mass. St. Charles really has a fantastic choir--it's always winning prizes and things, and if I lived in LA I'd definitely join it, or at least audition, but I hate going to choir masses, 'cause the choir hogs all of the songs!
Then we went home to open presents.
But first Mom had to vacuum the hall. She has no sense of priority. I'll tell you, though, the best part of Christmas isn't opening the presents, it's looking at them all wrapped and under the tree. No matter how great the presents are, it's never as exciting as before they are opened.
Then, after the vacuuming, she had to fuck around with the camcorder for half an hour. How she could have completely forgotten how to use it, I don't know, but it took so long that there was very little present opening time before she had to stop to make the yams that she was bringing over to the Tintocalises!
My life is a living hell.
So I had a bath, and talked to Melanie on the phone, who had called to thank me for the presents I had given her and her brood (wasn't she well brought up?).
I had gotten a small stuffed Pooh for Rebeccah, thinking it likely that she was a member of the Cult of Pooh, as are most children under the age of eight (or possibly 40), but as it turns out, according to her mother, Rebeccah is not only a member of the Cult of Pooh, she is actually a High Priestess!
So my offering pleased the Hunny Gods.
And with Donald's present I was so clever that I had no idea I was doing it, but I had gotten him the book James and the Giant Peach and Melanie told me that last year I had gotten him that very video!
Who knew?
And I got Katherine The Secret Garden, and Melanie pictures of her kids, and everything went over a treat.
Anyway, I got off the phone and finished bathing and wrapped the presents I had for Teri and Kristen, and we gathered up the yams and walked up the street.
We were supposed to get there at 3p, but we were there at 3.45p (see? Lateness is a family trait!), and I wondered whether they would have already been on dessert, and maybe there would be a plate of turkey leftovers warming in the oven for us, but we lucked out.
It was a massive gathering, Joan and her husband Jim (the actual homeowners), their daughters Teri (apparently everyone has been calling her Terese for the past fifteen years or so, but I can't get used to it) and Stacy (whom I haven't seen since she was this big!), Teri's husband Roger, daughter Kristen and stepson Joey, and Stacy's fiancee, um...nope. Can't remember his name for the life of me. He seemed very nice, though!
Not that he said a word, practically, the whole time, but it's not as though anyone can get a word in edgeways when my Mom's in the room. Okay, and me, too. Not to mention Teri, who can talk the hind leg off a Christmas donkey, when she's a mind to, so the quiet ones don't get much of a chance.
Mom and I went into our various In Public routines, where she's kind of loud and high voiced and I'm lower and undercutting. The funny thing is that I can play her role as well, and often do with Nik, where I'm kind of silly and he's more poker-faced. I got some good laughs over the course of the afternoon, so I was happy.
Teri got me this do-it-yourself all-in-one-pot strawberry growing kit that I am determined not to kill. I have killed every other plant that I've even walked by in my life, but I will break the cycle of death! I mean, there are strawberries at stake!
So I took a bunch of pictures of Kristen, and ate myself sick, then we staggered home to open the rest of the presents.
Of course, before we could, Mom had to put on lipstick and then had to fuck around with the camcorder some more.
I'm telling you, man, comes a time when, even though the best part of Christmas is before the presents are opened, it get's real old waiting, and I reached critical mass before I could actually start ripping paper willy and nilly.
And finally, at around 9p, I got to open everything! I got the underwear from Victoria's Secret and the socks, bras and tanktops from Target that we bought the other day, a pair of Easy Spirits, which I don't need yet but will in a couple of months, a purple satin lounging outfit from the Suzanne Somers collection, which is jammies, slippies and a headband, (I tend to lounge mostly in sweats, but I'm open to purple satin) and the trousers tore after my wearing them for about twenty minutes, so Mom's going to return them, the Diane Von Furstenberg outfit that I had worn to Francis's Event last week (wine coloured silk, very dressy, tunic, trousers, skirt and velvet jacket), a 14k gold ball necklace, new moccasins, a watch with both analog and digital time, a salsa maker (?) with a salad spinner attachment (?), a measuring spoon that is all measuring spoons in one, a thing to stick in an orange (don't ask), a great pair of black waterproof work boots, the Randy Newman box set, natch, blue jean leggings, the books Reel Future (stories sci-fi movies have been based on), The Main Corpse and Prime Cut by Diane Mott Davidson (which was funny, because I got Mom Killer Pancake, another of her books), Stephen King's Bag of Bones, and the videos of Bulworth, The Theory of Flight (yech!), Dr. Doolittle, Hope Floats, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, The X-Files, Wilde, Hurly Burly, Mrs. Dalloway, The Spanish Prisoner, Lolita, The Opposite of Sex and Dancing at Lughnasa.
The videos we get from the studios that don't know my father is dead, as he was a member of the Academy. So that looks like alot of movies, but it's nothing compared to what we used to get!
Anyway, the best present of all was a beautiful black leather jacket, and the reason that it was the best present is because it was my Da's. After he died I wanted it so badly, because it was so beautiful, and fit me well, if a bit big, but Mom wanted to keep it and have it cut down for her. I whined about it, but she was stubborn, and I had given up hope.
And I got it!
She decided that it would probably be ruined by trying to have it fitted to her, since she is so small, and that she would give it to me. I am so glad. I mean, it's a great jacket--lined, big enough to wear sweaters underneath, but the best part is that it used to belong to my father.
And that's the story of my Christmas? Aren't only children spoiled?
Today's horoscope:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. You could be counting into the wee hours of this evening.
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Last Updated Tues 27 December 21:46:09 1998