"You're a bloody psychopath."
High functioning sociopath. With your number. --SH
I'm avoiding everyone, binge watching Sherlock, with Benedict Cumberbatch, and Martin Freeman (as Dr. John Watson)... white Christmas lights glowing everywhere in the background.
I know. I know. I saw all the 'Sherlock' eps with Aramis, back in 2012, but here we are again.
My dad's widow gave me some childhood photos she found around their house. Christmas was my dad's holiday. He really loved it. Put everything together. Decorations. Did all the cooking. He was the cheer of the holiday. All holidays really. Without him now... we're just... well I'm binge watching Sherlock.
Truthfully, even if dad were alive today on Christmas Eve, I would still be in a quiet room binge watching Sherlock.
I appreciate the spirit of the holidays, but being non religious, a cynic, nonetheless spending a festive day with friends and loved ones, it is, for me, just another day.
My lungs can't take the cold. I have bad lungs. It cut my cigarette smoking down to a mere 10 years of consumption resulting in a lung infection, doctor's office, second lung infection, hospital, respiratory infection, hospital, almost died, thus no more cigarettes. I've sneaked one or two since I quit years ago, point being, my lungs can no longer stand the cold, or being around constant smokers...
Which is why during the months of December-March I'm held up where I think I'll be bothered the least by remaining family. Success!!!!
I would happily spend Christmas Eve alone with my dad's widow, just she and I, but the moment another member of family entered the room... well... thank god for wine, headsets and Netflix.
Both my grandfathers died young, when I was very young. My dad's dad, my grandpa in Utah, died very suddenly. I was very little. I remember one evening dad getting a phone call, and the next day he was on a plane back to Utah to bury my grandfather. In those days you didn't talk about death. Grandpa died. The end. These are the last photos of me and my grandpa before he died.
https://instagram.com/p/BObJPFih-J5/
https://instagram.com/p/BObJck-B_-U/
I only ever knew my other grandfather, the one from Minnesota, laying in bed at home hooked up to life support machines. I only ever knew him while he was dying. And then one day he wasn't in bed anymore.
Both my grandmothers died when I was in my 20's. And my father died last year. These (were) all the people I loved to be around. So as you can imagine, holidays with my family now, for me, are nothing more than a thin herd of people I often hear myself replying "Why??" when they say things like, "We should spend more time together."
Needless to say I'm not the type of person to participate in "ugly Christmas sweater day." I prefer spending my holidays with people I like, sharing a meal, drink, or just hanging out watching movies. I find the way adults treat holidays with other adults rather suspect. Take for example Valentine's Day. I have google. I read about Saint Valentine. But WHY does that translate into (the one day) where love and/or romance demands acknowledgement above all other days, with possibly the acceptance of your wedding anniversary? Why can't my lover surprise me with a home cooked meal and a foot massage, out of the blue one day in June, and say, "Happy Valentines Day." Isn't every day Valentines Day, for lovers?
Anyway, for you religious holiday people, this next photo is for you. If there truly is a Heaven, and by some chance I found my way there, you can blame this guy, the one I'm apparently trying to strangle https://instagram.com/p/BObJsSHhsKO/
Merry Christmas🎄if you insist. As you can see I found it all rather suspicious back then as well https://instagram.com/p/BObKCAzB2__/
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