Christmas Eve/Day and too much self-analysis

Way too much seriousness. Last night, my friend Ali said that I was "14 going on 45". Not that I don't like being mature and all but, why must it be me? No. Nope. Not doing that. Not going to self-pity. Not doin it. Not deleting that but not doing that. So let's see. How was my Christmas, you ask. My Christmas Eve was splendid. I spent it at Aunt Donna's house. I sang my solo for Poppy. It's in Italian. He's a second-generation immigrant. His parents & older brother came over on the boat. He speaks Italian. He didn't understand a word of it. Thought it was lovely and beautiful but didn't understand a word of it. So was it that my pronunciation was off so drastically or was it that at 86 his hearing isn't as good as it once was and his Italian is most likely rusty? I don't know. I know that I pronounced "rigor" "rignor" for the millionth time. Oh well. So we had a blast there. I've basically transferred generations. Up two generations. lol My cousins are all younger than me & mostly male. They all got these dart guns for Christmas & there was no way I was going to go downstairs with them and get shot at. So I stayed upstairs and talked with Uncle Pat, Aunt Doreen (both technically my great-aunt/uncle), Gramma, and Aunt Donna. Yup, I'm 14 going on 45. Not good. I'd like to finish my childhood, thank you very much. In her book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou says, "After being a woman for three years, I was about to become a girl." I kinda feel like that. My parents divorced & I was propelled forward into the role of woman. Well, kinda. I wasn't a girl anymore. I had done a lot of growing up in a very short amount of time. I'm sick of it. I'm desperate to get that last bit of childhood back. For however long I can keep it. I mean, part of it is always there. That part that dances in the rain and loves the snow will never die. That part is forever. It's the part that jumps on the couch... oh wait. I do that. The part that believes in Santa... oh wait. I do that too. The part that plays with her barbies and her favorite game was playing house and school. Nope, I don't really do that anymore. Haven't played school since fifth grade and haven't played house since sixth. Haven't pulled out my barbies since sometime between sixth and seventh. Ironically, most times when I was little, I'd beg to go sledding. My dad just asked if I wanted to go and I said, "not particularly". I'm going to stay here and NOT freeze my arse off. Oh, and on an unrelated note, remember Tom? Peace Boy? Remember Timmy? And the Joshua Revoultion? I'm killing Timmy. Timmy is away on the revolution. As is Tom. As is Lindz. Lindz told Timmy that I like Tom. Timmy told Tom. Timmy is dying next time I see him. Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe he feels the same. Maybe Timmy didn't actually tell him. Timmy's like that. Maybe Lindz didn't actually tell Timmy. Maybe. I doubt it. Okay. Enough problems for the day. I had started this entry to tell you about my Christmas. How easily distracted am I. Okay, on with the saga.

After Christmas Eve we drove home the "most residental" way so we could look at Christmas lights. Gail came over. Think I already covered that. Really didn't feel very Christmas-y before bed. Just wanted to sleep. No "When's Santa gonna get here?" jitters. Woke up. UGGGHHH! 8am. Idiot brother. Opened the gifts under our trees (in our rooms) and went downstairs. (I feel like I've already written this.) Opened gifts. Could go into exactly what I got but, a brief overview is this: a few CD's, some clothes from Alloy (a catalog. Dad never orders from catalogs), my new coat (!), a book, movie or two, the game CatchPhrase, and a FLYlady timer. I spent most of the day on the computer but got off eventually & read the rest of my Harlequin. We had Christmas dinner and did stockings. Cherry cheesecake was for dessert. Went to bed eventually. All in all a good day. Yesterday, Boxing Day, I already wrote about. And no, Tadd has nothing to do with why I like Gail. But, it is a perk. lol Well, it's time to go make some hot cocoa or something. Oh, and get a kick start on my new year's resolutions. Oh, I forgot to write this earlier, I think. But Thursday after school I was riding the bus home and talking to Ronnie. Why I was talking to him, I'll never know. He's an idiot. He asked what I'm getting for Christmas & I said, "I don't know." He was convinced that I did and told me that. I go "well, I hope I'm getting my new coat." He said, "Co? What's that?" To which I replied, "Coat, you idiot, coat." "You said co. Like c-o-e or c-o." Well, Jon's last name was at one point Coe. So this freaks me out & I start my bad habit of chewing my hair. I asked what he's getting for Christmas & he says, "Crumb" which is apparently his uncle's nickname. He procedes to tell me that his uncle's real name is John & that he has 2 other uncle's named John. Too much coincidence for me. So we get off the bus & turn the corner & the wind is blowing in my face & I start laughing. And laughing. Less than five minutes after talking about Jon, I was laughing. I took this as a sign that I'm over him. I'M OVER THAT A$$HOLE! YAY! So, I've got a new start for a new year. A new heart. That might be turned over yet again. Hopefully at this time next year, my heart will be in the hands of someone special and it won't be broken. Now, time to go. If anyone knows where my knight in shining armor is, send him my way, please.

Love always,
Vickey