Maggie's Christmas Party

I'm so not in the mood to be here. I'm dressed up. I'm smiling. I'm not mingling. I don't know how to. You'd think that I'd be born knowing how to like normal people. Plenty of people here and I know most of them but I keep forgetting names. Uncle John is my favorite uncle. I know his kids names (Nicole, William, and Austin) but I couldn't remember Aunt Lynn (his wife). I feel so self-conscious around my family. I should be more comfortable because I've known them my whole life but I don't see them much. And I've known them my whole life and will know them for the rest of it. They could bring stuff up forever and ever and embarrass me. I sang "Every Day Is A Winding Road" by Sheryl Crow last Christmas Eve. I turned the camera to the floor and sang quietly. Very quietly. Embarassing! This year, after about 15 weeks of voice class (read: confidence building), I'm singing Caro Mio Ben on Christmas Eve. It's not perfect but, it's Italian and my Poppy will love it. So what if it lacks dynamics and is sorta breathy? They won't care if I don't have enough breath support. They'll care about my expression and my words. That's what they'll care. Same group of people that were there last year. Plus Gail.

Yea, Gail may come to Christmas Eve this year. Christmas Eve is the biggest thing in my family. Unless they live together or they're getting married, I don't want her there. Her being there would mean that she's permanent and I don't think she will be. Last girlfriend, Debbie, didn't last and I had grown kind of attached to her. Supper is served. I'll be back in a bit.

Very interesting trying to find a semi-flexitarian meal in a meat & potatoes family. Semi-vegetarians eat fish, chicken, eggs, and dairy products. Flexitarians eat the occasional burger. This family isn't very no red meat friendly. A small salad, macaroni salad, a piece of cake, and a Coke. Yum. The ziti looked really good but it's got burger. (The count is four days without red meat.) Back to the whole girlfriend issue.

Gail is great and all but she's not coming to Christmas Eve if I have anything to do with it. Nor do I want her to move in. Yea, it's a double standard but it's one I'm comfortable with. Mom and Ray had a baby three months before they got married but Gail and Dad can't move in together. I never met Ray before Mom moved in with him. Uh-oh. What started as a light-hearted entry is now a serious divulge into the mind of Vickey. Jump ship if you wish. Why am I okay with the standards set? Mom can say whatever she want about the divorce, about Dad, and I tend to accept it as the truth. Dad can't even mention Mom without me flying off the wall. Mom told me Dad had an affair with Angel. I accept that as the truth. I believe that Dad and his affair(s) were part of what ripped apart my family and I haven't forgiven him for that. Dad says he "never had a relationship with Angel that did not include" my mom. I don't believe that. Lindz said last night that I "choose to believe what will not hurt" me. She's wrong. I believe what I think sounds like my parents. What makes the most sense. What.... I believe what I believe. What I need to believe. I need to believe that Dad had an affair. That he told my mother, "You're such a f*** up. You can't even kill yourself right." For a time, I had to believe my mother had cancer. That she tried to kill herself. Now I need to believe that she's fine and that she accidently OD'ed. I need to believe that because I need to believe that my mother is okay. That she is sane. I need to believe that to stay sane, to stay okay. I need to believe in something and that is what I choose. If those beliefs were ripped away from me, I'd crumble. I wouldn't be able to help it. I'd crash. I need to believe that my mom didn't have a three-way, that Dad had an affair. It hurts me but it sounds reasonable. It sounds like my world won't come crashing down. Lots of men (and women) have affairs. I can believe that. My parents went out on a date after Mom moved in with Lori. Dad took Joey & I to get dinner at Wegman's before. I remember exactly what I got. It was a sub & I've ordered my subs the same way every time since I was in sixth grade. (Turkey, provolone, tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, if you must know.) While we ate, he left to go get something. I saw him coming back. With yellow roses. My mom's favorite. I hung out with Jaci & Jon that night. Yes, Jon, my ex-love. I thought Mom would move back in soon. *goes to find some place quieter to finish the tale* They stayed out late that night. I was asleep when Mom came back. Seemed like a good sign to me. Another time, near Christmas, I think, Mom and I were standing in her "bedroom" at Lori's and Dad gave her a pyramid of candy. Of her "favorite candy". Ferro rocher. Both she and I hate them. They're Angel's favorites. How many men know their wife's best friends favorite candy?

Dad just wants Mom to tell him "if she's coming and when". Mom tried to be his friend. He's not even civil to/about her. When Mom talks to me, about him, she tells me fact and says it kindly-ish, not spitefully. Dad tells me stuff only in anger, to make me realize that my "mother is not always telling the truth". He doesn't think she's acting like a mother because she's not constantly punishing me, because she doesn't yell at me, because she treats me as her equal. Well, why should she punish me if I'm being good? Why should she yell if I'm not being a b itch? Why should she treat me as inferior to her just because I'm younger? If she's my best friend, why is that a bad thing? It just means that I'll talk to her about stuff.

Onto the rest of my family, my parents are too depressing. My uncle John is great. I love him so much. He's just great. I really need to learn to bring my digital camera places (and upload 'em on Lindz's computer). Shauna, Anita's oldest daughter, is married and pregnant with her second. Holly isn't technically family but she's awesome. She's Aunt Donna's best friend and Mike's girlfriend, I think. She made Mike buy me a drink. I've paid for only one drink all night. Cousin Patty bought my first Coke and Mike bought my second. I paid for a Brisk. It's not like I didn't have money at first. It's just that people won't let me pay. Mariah is here. She was my favorite cousin for a while. Aunt Punkie's cutting up a rug on the dance floor. Great-grandma [insert last name] is here. She's 78. Brianna, Mike's daughter & Punkie's granddaughter, is here, too. Tons of people I've never met. Much as I didn't want to come, I knew I'd love it by the end. So what if I'm jsut sitting here writing and people watching? I'm having fun and that's what counts, right? I like watching the other people dance. It's better than making a fool of myself. I guess I need to take more risks. Kind of like Ruby Capote (the main character of Girls' Poker Night).

Others (read: Dad) may think I'm being anti-social by just sitting here, writing but I'm content. Holly gave me a lot to think about. Everyone keeps saying how grown-up I am and how mature. How unique and how mentally strong I am. How much the braces helped. Well, I'm off for a bit to read and such.

 

Back at home. That book made me cry at the end. Well, nearly cry. I wouldn't cry in public. It made me feel like I hadn't done anything. Like I needed to take risks, too. I related to her so much. The author left the end a little too up in the air for me but, it fit, I guess. If you've never read it, do. It's a really good book. I couldn't put it down. Speaking of not being able to put things down, I can't put my hands down from typing. Can't keep my eyes open though. I guess I should go to bed so I'm ready for church in the morning. Now, to wrap up some conversations and sleep between the sheets. *can already feel her body relaxing* Good night and sweet dreams (or more likely good morning and hope you slept well).

Love always,
Vickey