1:19 a.m.
/
17 December, 2003

You know, I really hate the commercial side of Christmas. And I'm not saying that because I'm a pinko lefty communist type, although I suppose I am. I hate getting presents just as much as I hate giving them.

I think it's probably to do with when I was a kid, back when it was just my mum and my older little brother. We were dead poor back then, really, really poor. The money my mum had to spend on weekly shopping, I can now make in a day. I remember her sitting up entire nights, trying to figure out which bills she could afford to pay and which she could risk leaving until the next week. And having toast for dinner. She would spend the entire year saving up for Christmas, we didn't really have birthday presents. And, you know, the thing is, I never really enjoyed the presents because I felt so incredibly guilty about all the things everyone had had to go without just so I could have them. And I still do, even though money hasn't been a problem for a long time now.

I still hate myself if I don't particularly like my presents, which is the norm, and I still freak out about finding the perfect presents for everyone else. I don't want to waste my time and money on something someone isn't going to even like, you know. And I know everyone says that it isn't about the presents, blah de blah blah, but that's bull, because every single year, I beg people not to buy me anything, especially my mum, because I buy whatever I want or need, and frankly, she's completely clueless. I would rather see her spend the money on herself. But noooooo, they all freak out and say that I can't possibly go without presents and make me feel even worse for suggesting it.

Still, I think I'm getting better at the present giving part. My favourite ever was when I made my mum a book, full of pictures of me and her through the years and wrote her a really honest letter at the end. It made her cry, and my mother never cries, ever. And she still keeps it next to her bed even now.

This year, I'm going to make her a christmas stocking and put it at the end of her bed, just like she does for us. I think that will be really cool. Luckily, my brother bought my dad something perfect- a huge crucifix with skulls on, so I'm going to go in with him.

The thing that started this whole rant off was the fact that my brother's girlfriend is buying us all presents. Which is lovely and thoughtful, etc., but no-one knows what the hell to buy her in return. Bah Humbug.