I feel incredibly ambivalent about Christmas. On the one hand it can be a truly magical time of year. On the other hand – ach – insert “Bah! Humbuggery” here. I used to spend Christmas on a feminist retreat with the Buddhists. There is nothing like synchronised periods, pins and needles and flatulence for putting the whole thing into a spiritual perspective.
I have just spent the evening wrapping some presents ready for posting tomorrow, and have written one of those tedious round robins which we all wince over every year. Mine of course is a masterpiece of wit and a delightful syllabub of anecdotage and whimsical humour. (Isn’t “whimsical” a word to put dread into anyone’s heart?).
I don’t really need to do it. I have no children, so I cannot impress. (My godmother has genuinely impressive children – a son who travels from country to country telling their Finance Ministries what to do, another who’s about to be a QC and is married to one of Blair’s babes, a third who’s one of the few internet moguls who’s dot didn’t bomb, and the youngest of whom is equally successful in the army. And they are nice people. Which is even more annoying. And since they are all either a couple of years older or younger than me, the whole thing is incredibly insecure-making. I feel utterly worthless on or about December 10th every year. Enough. It is time to draw this bracket to a close.)
Where was I? Oh yes. The Christmas Round Robin. The Entirely-Pointless-in-my-case Christmas Round Robin, though it was useful to be able to tell everyone about my divorce in one fell swoop: “Happy Christmas! Oh, by the way, we’ve split up and I got custody of the Christmas-Card list”.
The thing is, that for the last 8 or so years I have been writing them to hide more than they reveal. Since I strayed from the path of the conventionally married, I have come to regard my private life as being private. Now my life is deliciously and delightfully dull (other than the bits of it that aren’t) so earlier this evening I found myself writing to my distant cousins and my mother’s bridesmaids to tell them that I moved house last year and I joined the WI.
I really have no idea whether or not it’s worth it.
Perhaps I should just send them a link to this blog, or one of those bloody memes, and be done with it.
I think I’ll spend the rest of this month devising a Christmas meme to launch on the 1st of December. That’ll cheer me up. Bitch that I am.
Bah, as I said. Hummmmmmm….BUG.