2003-12-26 - 10:32 a.m.

I’ve never really cared all that much about Christmas. Even when I was young I don’t think I got that into it. I mean, obviously I was a big fan of gettin’ stuff, but other than that, I didn’t really care.

See, there are basically three major aspects of Christmas, and neither one of them has ever grabbed me enough to get any sort of foothold. For one, I’m not religious at all. At one point in my life I won a wading pool for becoming king of Sunday School, but since then the whole God thing never really did it for me.

Next is family. Family has never been something that I long for, like many people especially around the holidays. There are so many people you see who just desperately want to be able to see their relatives at the holiday season, even if the practical part of them knows they’re just going to end up wanting to kill someone. I, frankly, am rather indifferent. If my family were close by, sure, I’d go see them, but they aren’t, so I call instead. But I always call, because even if I don’t really care that much, I know my mother does, and even if Christmas is just a day when I get paid to not work to me, I know a lot of other people do care, and there’s no way I’m going to hurt my mother in the deep, personal way that only something like not calling on Christmas can.

Finally, come the presents. I know there was a time when I cared about the presents. And still, I love getting them, if it happens. But I’ve grown to not only not expect it but not really care about that, either. I almost never seem to have the money to actually buy people things, and besides, I tend to do that when I find something perfect for someone, anyway. Since I can’t buy for people, I feel weird asking them to give me things. Besides, I’m too practical. If you were to ask me what I want right now I wouldn’t say something frivolous like a banana-seat bicycle or My Little Ponies, or whatever it is the kids are asking for these days, I’d want something like an umbrella, because despite it being late December in Boston, all it’s doing lately is raining.

There is really only one thing that has kind of taken hold for me on Christmas and if nothing else it’s something I want to hold onto. Food. Christmas for me always seems to be a day for good food. Never on Christmas have I resorted to something like a cheeseburger and fries, it’s always something I wouldn’t normally have. When still living with my family it was usually a breakfast of the best of the year’s haul of venison with eggs, and supper was centered on something like a honey-glazed ham. Two years ago it was duck a l’orange and last year it was massive amounts of chinese food with screwdrivers. Yesterday, salmon steaks, basmati rice, and a spinach, tomato, and orange bell pepper salad with homemade dressing and a bottle of white wine, the first I have ever picked by myself and quite a good choice, if I do say so myself.

Other than that, the holiday doesn’t really matter to me all that much. It’s usually just a time when I spend the day sleeping in, hanging out with whatever friend(s) also can’t get back to their family, marathons on television and eating something different. I kind of wish I cared more, so that I could have more fun with it, but then I look at a lot of people and realize not caring means I have a lot less stress, and a lot more sleep. So maybe it’s not such a bad thing, after all.