Just for fun – How do you eat an elephant?

It’s okay – it’s not a post about that C word, because, you know, I’m rarely that vulgar…. This is a post about the other C word: CHRISTMAS. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, right? Everyone loves it, right? Ho ho ho and it’s Chriiiiiiiiiiistmaaaaas. (A la Slade*).

For my own part I like this time of the year well enough, although I wouldn’t put myself down as one of those hard-core Christmas enthusiasts. Truth told, I’m happy to take it or leave it – I like buying presents, I like Dr Who, and I like being able to drink alcohol before twelve noon but apart from that, I like all of the other days of the year just as much as I like Christmas day.

drinking

I’ve been alive for 38 Christmases, and (of those I can recall) only three of them have been shitty. That’s a fairly good return, although PLEASE GOD can you not ask me to work out the percentages. Nobody should have to work out percentages during the season of goodwill…….

percent

My first shitty Christmas was 1996. I’ll never forget it, and to be honest, when I think about Christmas now my thoughts are still clouded by Christmas 1996** Christmas 1996 was, for me, Eating Disorder Central. I spent months worrying about how I would pick my way through the calorific reality that was coming my way, and then I spent months atoning for it. I sometimes wonder how different my life might have been, had it not been for Christmas 1996, but then I remember that there’s no good blaming your whole life on a few sausage rolls and I move on. Again.

My next shitty Christmas was my first year in Surbiton. That was the Christmas when everything I thought I knew changed IN A HEART BEAT and I found myself alone even though I thought I would never have to be alone again. It was also the Christmas I moved house and got tonsillitis all AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME. That year, it snowed four days before Christmas and I remember that because four days before Christmas I still hadn’t bought a single gift which meant I had to hike my way to Kingston in FIFTY feet of snow FOUR DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS and buy gifts for the people I loved even though I just wished I would drown in a puddle of melted snow, without the people I loved ever having to know. That was a pretty shitty Christmas…..

To this day, I still can’t explain my third shitty Christmas, unless being mental is an adequate explanation. Somehow I knew that Christmas was approaching but somehow I also didn’t give a shit about it. I stuck my head in the sand – as I’m wont to do – only conceding that Christmas was going to happen regardless a week before it actually did. It was around about this point that I shoved a tree up, flung some tinsel in its general direction and took to wearing a jumper with a quirky penguin on because, you know, quirky penguins are FESTIVE. Ho, ho and fucking ho.

I don’t think this Christmas is going to be a particularly shitty Christmas. I’m looking forward to it well enough (it’s that thing I said about drinking alcohol at noon): my tree is up, my gifts are bought and I’ll get to spend time with the people I care about. Most importantly of all, from my point of view, my head is in a reasonable place – I’m calm and collected and not especially mental. I head into Christmas knowing that a) I’m going to survive and that b) surviving isn’t going to be a problem.

Still – I keep thinking about those people who might be where I was during my three shitty Christmases: people who might be afraid, or alone, or just off the scale mental for no good reason. I keep thinking how difficult it is to find a way through at this time of the year, and I keep thinking how much I wish I could tell those people, who feel the way I once did, that however hopeless the hopeless things they are dealing with feel – there is hope to be found at the end of the hopelessness. You just have to hold on tight.

Christmas brings so many expectations with it, and it’s easy to get carried away with the idea that everything should be perfect for that one day. At Christmas all of your insecurities should somehow melt away, and you should be with everybody you love, and you should feel miraculously joyful and everything should be completely perfect BECAUSE CHRISTMAS. Here’s what I know: ‘because Christmas’ isn’t the answer to all of the challenges you were facing before Christmas. Here’s what I also know – ‘because Christmas’ doesn’t make anything worse, or more intolerable, or more unbearable than it might have been either.

Christmas is tough for so many people, for so many different reasons. But Christmas will be over soon enough, and the reasons make sense in the end. Tomorrow will come. Until then hope is important, shout up if you need help, and I’ll see you in the new year.

Oh. And ho, ho ho……

mofo

Love you lots like jelly tots

WeeGee xxx

*Wait – is it Slade? I’m starting to wonder if it might be Wizard…..

**Can everybody please be too polite to mention that 1996 was TWENTY years ago, thanks.

In honour of the one year anniversary of Mr Awesome Thing Number Five and I moving in together I give you:

THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF COHABITING WITH A WEEGEE.

Thou shalt respect the God of angles

The WeeGee is a particular creature in all matters but especially in relation to the positioning of inanimate objects – all such objects in the WeeGee’s natural habitat are placed carefully, sometimes parallel to others and sometimes slightly askew. There is a system governing the parallel/slightly askew positioning of inanimate objects known and understood by WeeGee and WeeGee alone.

The system must be respected at all times: if you choose to reposition inanimate objects you do so on pain of a ginormous and lengthy sulk.

Thou shalt not eat breakfast cereal

The cohabiting WeeGee has made significant progress in managing her ‘noisy eating rage’. However, the noise associated with the consumption of breakfast cereal remains problematic. Breakfast cereal is therefore eaten in WeeGee’s presence at considerable risk to your own personal safety.

Thou shalt remain calm in the face of loss

The WeeGee will lose her phone/keys/purse on a near daily basis. Such losses will result in a period of frantic searching which will invariably conclude when WeeGee finds her phone/keys/purse in the very place she said it definitely wasn’t.

If the period of frantic searching has not concluded within five minutes it is your responsibility to concede that WeeGee has really lost her phone/keys/purse this time and join the search. Shortly thereafter you will find the lost phone/keys/purse in the very place WeeGee said it definitely wasn’t.

Thou shalt not touch WeeGee’s feet. Ever.

Nothing makes the WeeGee more furious than a part of another person’s body touching her bare feet. In the interests of safety adequate precautions should therefore be taken if there is even the slightest possibility that you might make contact with the WeeGee’s bare feet. Adequate precautions include, but are not limited to, the wearing of protective garments designed to guard against a punch in the face.

Thou shalt not wake a sleeping WeeGee.

Every effort should be taken not to disturb the sleeping WeeGee. In the event that a sleeping WeeGee is accidentally woken you should be prepared to hear an extremely wide variety of really bad swear words many of which you will not have heard before.

Unfortunately it will occasionally be necessary to deliberately wake the sleeping WeeGee. In this instance commandment five shall be amended to read ‘thou shalt not wake a sleeping WeeGee and expect her to be remotely civil about it’ (see above)

Thou shalt not expect to find things where you left them

The WeeGee is a stealth tidier-upper. Items left in the wrong place will be moved to the correct place immediately and without warning.

Note that your opinion on the ‘correct’ place for an item is entirely irrelevant. The WeeGee’s decision on where your personal belongings will be tidied up to is final and you shall have no right of appeal.

Thou shalt not laugh at tears

The WeeGee is a highly sensitive creature prone to outbursts of uncontrollable crying. It is unusual for a warning to be given although really nice people winning television game shows and that happy-but-sad bit at the end of DIY SOS often precede outbursts of uncontrollable crying.

It is your responsibility not to laugh at these outbursts of uncontrollable crying, no matter how ridiculous. Note that you should never administer hugs if uncontrollable crying breaks out as the administration of hugs under such circumstances tends to lead to an outbreak of full-blown but equally uncontrollable sobbing. This is not in the interests of anyone, least of all yourself.

Thou shalt provide socks

Quite what the WeeGee did for socks before she lived with you remains one of the great mysteries of life but the fact remains that the WeeGee will never have any socks and will expect to find a suitable pair in your drawer.

Thou shalt not get antsy when WeeGee wears your Thursday socks on a Sunday is a supplementary commandment that will help to avoid arguments and thus make life a little more tolerable for all concerned.

Thou shalt be in charge of the cling film

The WeeGee is incapable of using cling film without a) embarking on a long, heartfelt and sweary rant about the bastard who invented it and b) losing the effing end of the useless bastard stuff. You shall therefore bear sole responsibility for all and any procedures which involve the use of cling-film.

Thou shalt not ask questions about Eastenders during Eastenders

If you would like to know what is happening in Eastenders you should watch it. If you do not want to watch Eastenders you should not ask the WeeGee questions about what is happening while she is trying to watch it.

If you do not want to watch Eastenders but insist on asking WeeGee questions about what is happening while she is trying to watch it the WeeGee will be deeply sarcastic and will also certainly not tell you what is happening in Eastenders because SHE IS TRYING TO WATCH IT.

Love you all lots, like Jelly Tots

WeeGee xoxox

Tag: Just for fun

The C word

The ten commandments of cohabiting with a WeeGee