Christmas is the number one suicide holiday of the year. Knowing that some times makes me feel like crap, when I’m sitting there with my loving family and all the world is green.
I went home around midnight the 23rd, having seen the obligatory Hovmesteren with the folks. I sat down there, there was small orbs of snow flakes flying carelessly in the musky city fog surged in yellow-orange from the streetlights.
I picked up a cold beer from the fridge. All my roommates gone elsewhere. Streets empty for folks, just the occasional neighbourhood watch car or lonely drunk falling by. And I turned on Tom Waits.
..
The 24th, Christmas Eve, I had a chat with my father over the phone. As usual the topics ranged from the incredible stupidity of some people to the persuasive beauty of the Queen of Jordan, but it was good talking to him again and hearing that everything was ok.
I was put in charge of the pinnekjøtt, a traditional Norwegian course, while the rest of the family was elsewhere. I gathered my mind over a National Geographic documentary on spiritism, drank some red-labelled espresso and was in a total lack of music.
’twas a great dinner, though, and good company.
We opened the presents at six o’clock (customs differ across Norway), and the coolest thing I got was two hand-pumps from my grandmother in the north. I guess I haven’t seen her for at least three years or something, but she still sends presents for x-mas and birthdays. I’m such an ass when it comes to keeping in touch with people, and there’s no other day of the year where all the bad guilt fills in. Wohoo.
But there’s still years left.
Sitting here at the end of the 25th, I can’t wait to get back to reality. I live in Little Kariachi, and I figure at least 60% of my neighbours are muslims, so I shouldn’t have to wait a week to get back from implausible discussions and agonizing trivialities to my little East Side den, street life and whatever.
I hope that my readers are as lucky as I am, but I also want those of you feeling a bit on the sideline during these holidays to know that you’re not alone. And I want you to give a fuck, and have a merry x-mas, whatever you put into it.