Christmas

I had such a great Christmas.  In the weeks leading up to Christmas, I barely did any decorating in my house.  I didn't even put up my Christmas tree.  A couple of weeks ago, I did see a one-foot-tall silver garland tree, which I purchased and put on my dining room table.  I didn't go entirely without a Christmas tree this year.  The Christmas spirit didn't really hit me until a couple of days before Christmas.  My boyfriend has been traveling a lot, and I've been doing an insane amount of overtime.  Both these contributing factors led to a Grinch-esque mood.

When I woke up on Christmas, I was full of ye olde Christmas spirit.  I couldn't wait for my sweetie to open his gifts, especially since I didn't blurt out beforehand what I got him.  I hate surprises (the hatred goes both ways).  My big gifts for the sweetie: a boxed DVD set of Band of Brothers and the Pacific, and a single-serving Keurig for his office.  My boyfriend loves history, and I've heard him say on several occasions how much he loved Band of Brothers.  As soon as I saw it, score!  As for the Keurig, he has bitched a lot about the lack of good coffee at his office.  I guess the marketing department has a Keurig, but they aren't close to his desk.  This should hopefully save him some time and provide him with insta-coffee.

I absolutely LOVED what he got me this year.  The best gift: we are going to a Penguins-Mighty Ducks game on February 15th.  I don't know how good our seats are, but I don't care!  It's the Penguins.  Watching the game live is infinitely better than watching it on TV.  I'm basing this judgment on the ONE hockey game I have been to thus far.  Haha.  As soon as he told me about the game, I squealed.  I squealed like a happy happy girl.  Is it February 15th yet?  

Yep, this is how I reacted to my gift.

The other gifts included a gift card to Ann Taylor (obviously) and an IOU for a pair of shoes.  I redeemed that IOU for a Hello grown-up black pumps.  My crusade to look like a sophisticated big gurrrrlll continues.  My sweetie knows me so well... or, I talk so incessantly about the Pens and Ann Taylor that he'd be a moron not to pick up on those anvil-sized hints.  I'm going with the .... first one.

This was the first Christmas where it was just me and my boyfriend.... plus a certain Boomer dog.  I've said it before and I'll say it again - I love my weird little family.  

Christmas

Christmas 2010 was an interesting one for me since I was in the middle of my chemotherapy treatment.  I think Christmas was after Chemo 2 and days just before Chemo 3.

Two days, or maybe the day before Christmas, my hair started to fall out.  It wasn't like, SNAP, you got no hair.  The last day at work before Christmas vacation, my scalp started to hurt really bad.  It felt like my scalp was trying to escape my actual body.  I went to the bathroom, took a pair of scissors, and cut off all my shoulder-length hair.  After I was done, I looked in the trash can and just stared at all of my hair lying in the trash can.  Boy, there was a lot of hair no longer on my head.  I started to tear up and then realized I wasn't going to cry over this.  Over the next few days, my hair slowly fell out.  

By the time Christmas rolled around, I wasn't in the jolliest of moods.  I was feeling sick because of the chemo and down about my appearance.  Just because I wasn't going to cry about my baldness, that didn't mean I liked being bald.  I hated it and could feel my self-esteem going down the crapper.  My boyfriend was stressed out because of his then-crappy job.  We just added a puppy to our lives so the two of us were just absolutely stressed.

We went to Christmas at my parents' house, and it was such an awful experience.  I hated every minute of it.  The dinner conversation revolved around my stepsister, of course.  So when my stepmother interrupted me TWICE when my neighbors were asking about my treatment, I lost it.  The second time she did it, I saw red and lost my temper.  "Do I have to be talking about fucking weddings and babies to get a word in edgewise around here?" I snapped at her.

Both her, my neighbor and I believe my stepsister (or maybe it was her husband, I don't remember), all looked at me like, WHOA.  I didn't care.  If I could have said nastier things to all of them, then I would have.  I doubt my stepmom realized what she was doing at the time (probably just thought she was being an attentive hostess), but to me, she was trying to silence me and prevent me from talking about my life, my illness.  I know cancer and chemotherapy isn't a jolly holiday topic to discuss, but that was what was happening to me.  Interrupting me TWICE while I was trying to talk to their neighbors was rude and offensive.

As my boyfriend and I drove home from dinner at my parents' house, I was bawling and completely miserable.  It felt like I could have just stayed at home because obviously I wasn't welcome, or at least my cancer wasn't.  I was cursing my stepfamily and their favoritism bullshit, while vowing to my boyfriend that we wouldn't be spending anymore holidays with my parents if I can help it.  However, my Christmas wasn't a complete depressing train wreck of emotions.  It was still pretty awesome, especially since it was my first Christmas in my house.  Boomer, also known as the BEST Christmas gift ever, was such a cute little puppy, and I had so much fun snuggling with her.  My boyfriend and I spent the day just hanging out, watching old movies and playing with the puppy.

This face.  THIS FACE.  How can you have a bad Christmas when you had this face to look at?