12.29

I remember when this was always the official start to Christmas. And by start, I mean, as children, we knocked down our stockings before worrying about any wrapped gifts. These were always full of candy and small goodies, or gag gifts as we got older. And considering the tearing apart of presents happened before breakfast happened, the sweets didn’t last long.

Our stockings never actually hung in front of a real fire. Perhaps when my youngest sister was still a baby at one of the houses, but my mom never wanted our tree in the family room at our final house. It was to far from the center of the household, so she made my dad buy a huge gas fireplace for the living room. That’s where the tree stood, and that’s where the stockings hung.

They all also had our names on them. Very cheaply, with sparkly puffy paint. But I think I’ve gotten used to that. It’s more of a tradition now. Or so I tell myself, as it’s simply easier to keep track of whose stocking is whose this way. Makes my holiday season easier. My memory is fading in my old age..

12.28

I remember buying this from Urban Outfitters. I never buy furniture/decor type items from that place. Even their air is too expensive. But it must have been on sale, else I wouldn’t have gone near it. It was most likely a purchase from one of my many Urban shopping trips with my bestie. Which was not unusual considering she lived right down the street from this place and a Borders. Yay! We were in college at the time, so the giant annual sale they have was our favorite. Well, any college girl’s favorite. Even those that had mommy and daddy shoveling money into their bank accounts.

Quite obviously, this pillow is not really the most comfortable. So, once it found its way to my home, I used it as one of those annoying decorative bed pillows. You know, one of the ones you have to take off the bed every time you want to sleep in the aforementioned bed. I didn’t mind though. I purchased a king size bed soon after and that gave me plenty of room to share with all my fancy, non-sleeping pillows.

Before that, it happened to live in direct sunlight. So during my next move, I found that it wasn’t exactly the same color I had bought it as. Oops. That doesn’t really matter to me though. I was practically the only person staring at it. And when there was a boy in the room.. well, guys don’t normally care about all that home decorating crap. I was safe. Or rather, the pillow was safe.

12.26

I remember when some high school boys mooned us right here. It was back in middle school, before I got injured on the cheer leading squad. We were on our way to an away game at this school. School was out for the day, but the cross country or track teams always ‘practice’ in the afternoon. As the bus was pulling into the driveway, these two high schoolers pulled down their shorts. It was rather gross. And not just because boys have cooties. The most prominent detail was how pale white their ass cheeks were. How sad.

They obviously knew who we were. They saw a bus full of little girls and thought they’d act all cool. Most of the other girls took to it right away, but I wasn’t fooled! Obvious assholes. It also didn’t help that not many of the other girls liked me or talked to me on a regular basis, so I was sitting nearer to the front by myself. I caught the last glimpse of the boys once I turned around after hearing all the other girls starting their ridiculous giggles.

I don’t actually remember anything about the game that night. It was always slightly boring. And I never actually cared about winning enough to keep track of my own team. I was just there to say I once participated in a school team sport. And that was also the only other time I was at this particular high school. Until recently, when I started working there. But as that is the only memory I have of this place, I sort of went in with a bad impression. Like, all the boys are sluts or something. Which is probably why all the Island hoes had significant others from this area.

12.24

I remember being super excited when I received these for Christmas back in middle school. My mother must have finally broke down and let my dad pick out books for me to read. Which is sad really, because it seems like she didn’t want my reading level to exceed her own, which actually probably ended in elementary school. But whenever I added a book to my birthday or Christmas list, she’d purposely get me something else that seemed more “girly” to her. Because as a child, I wasn’t easily persuaded to follow in her pathetic footsteps.

These were a gift right when the advertisements and trailers for Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings started. I remember wanting to see the movie, and I tried reading the books but all my friends were reading there parents’ and my school library refused to carry any Tolkien books. Stupid. So, I thought I was going to miss out, but my daddy loves me.

It actually came as a gift from my Great Grandmother. She used to send us all money for holidays and our birthdays, which would then usually be used by our parents to pick out actual items. I thought it was a pretty good idea, as it would generally make sure I received all the items on my list. Anyway, these books went through hell with me. Almost as much as my original Harry Potter books did. But I finally was able to upgrade, and hopefully these copies will find their way to a new home.

12.23

I remember making a big deal out of buying this as soon as possible. It was obviously mandatory for me to buy everything to do with Nightmare Before Christmas. But as big companies love money, this collector’s item was way overpriced. And even though I had a job at the time, I didn’t have $200 just laying around. My Nana offered to front me the money and that made me one happy Burton fan.

I am extremely afraid of breaking him. He’s pretty heavy and I have lots of cats to maneuver around. Every year when I bring him out, I fear for disaster. But he’s been pretty lucky. And I still have my vhs of Nightmare Before Christmas, so I don’t need to take him out of his box-home when I feel the urge to sing along to a movie.

Since I bought him, he’s the first Halloween decoration to go out. And he stays until after Christmas, for obvious reasons. He just goes through a wardrobe change. No one else is allowed to touch him, as he’s broken once before. And I’m still pissed about it because I take pride in having mint condition items. Damn cats.

12.22

I remember this being my mandatory tradition every year. Not attending, quite obviously. I was a dancer. Well. Realistically, dance was my life. I had no other passion as intense. And on top of the average of ten classes I’d attend every week, I dedicated my free time to Competition practice on Fridays and Nutcracker rehearsal on Saturdays. There was no other place I preferred to be. And somehow, with an insane amount of girls running around the studio, we managed to put together a performance for sold out shows every December.

These were the memorabilia that my mother thought was important. Rather than telling her daughters how proud she was. She kept every sheet of paper that proved we were part of the Academy. I guess its kind of cool for me now, because I certainly cannot remember all the roles I’ve performed over the years. I know I tried to do all of them, but I wasn’t involved young enough to do the mouse role, which both my sisters did a few times. That’s okay.. those fluffy jumpsuits would have been incredibly unflattering.

I miss all of this way too much. Besides mandatory grade school, dance was the biggest part of my life. Unforeseen circumstances stole that from me, and now I have no way of gaining back that sense of purpose. Everything feels lack luster nowadays. I have these memories, but its not the same. Can someone build a time machine?

12.21

I remember stealing these from the cooler at work before we all left at night. Mainly because we didn’t get a lunch or a break to eat our own food, so we felt that we deserved something. And these drinks weren’t much. I’m pretty sure they were bought in bulk for .50 cents each and sold for over $3. That’s insane. But these people were extremely stingy. The one owner would hunt you down if you were a penny short and reprimanded you in Korean until you finally walked out. It was the worst job I’ve ever had, but I had no choice at the time.

At the time I could not realize how wrong this place was. Well, maybe a little. But I knew I couldn’t do anything about it. No one listens to young women. Especially in our country. All the waitresses there had to make do with the opportunity we had on hand. And it wasn’t pretty. We were all in school, and the best this place gave us was half the gas money it took to drive to and from our college classes. So, food was never an option. Which is why we grabbed one item or another to make ourselves feel a little better for wasting our time there.

One by one we all left; there’s a breaking point for every employee. And having our wages stolen by immigrants was mine. I tried turning them in to a few different authorities, but who cares about servers? They’re the bottom of the barrel. Obviously all criminals and drug addicts. And they must make over minimum wage, so there’s no need to tip them. You must be a better person than the person who serves your food, because you somehow figured out a way to scam money out of someone else.

12.20

I remember when this was a happy sight during my childhood. It was always the time when it was required for my mom to spend money on her kids. And my dad would try to make sure that we recieved gifts that were somewhat related to what was on our lists, as my mother loved to pick out things she would have wanted. I didn’t mind. I had many hiding spots for my favorite items. Plus, once I reached a certain age, she really didn’t understand how to work my gadgets. I still have to tell her how to turn on her computer.

I remember sneaking downstairs on Christmas Eve to catch Santa. This was obviously before I knew the truth, but it was my game every year. And after the jig was up, I turned it into “try to catch my parents in the act.” Mainly because I didn’t tell my parents I knew for quite a few years. I never actually witnessed them sneaking out our Santa presents, but I came within about 10 minutes. They mastered the art of silence, which I guess is required when you have four children.

Christmas lost its luster for a while after that. I loathed the season. I’m still not all that fond of it. But for my own reasons; hate me if you want. But I still understand the joy a tree full of gifts can bring. Which is the only reason I still put up a tree, despite never having my family visit for the holidays. Maybe I just like to see what I’m giving each year. I like knowing that I might make someone smile, and that they’ll try to reciprocate. Except my mom, she expects my father’s head on a silver platter just because she exists. Whatevs.

12.19

I remember sledding on these hills as a child. It was one of a few different places, but here we didn’t have to worry about getting in anyone else’s way. And as it’s one of the Island’s golf courses, it’s large enough to claim a few hills for yourself all afternoon. These hills obviously aren’t tall enough to impress everyone, but as a little girl, it was scary enough.

This was years ago though. Probably before my sisters were born. My mom would obviously refuse to spend time with us kids, so my dad would put forth the effort to enjoy his free time with us. I do recall that our sledding sessions never lasted long. It was always super fun, but ended because someone was soaked to the bone or I had to pee. Which was also always the reason we could never go ice fishing for too long. Oops.

I honestly haven’t seen anyone sledding here in years. Or maybe I just haven’t noticed. But perhaps the country club changed their rules. I don’t know why they would do that. I’m pretty sure the snow every year causes more damage to their precious golf course than humans walking on it does. But its always about money..

12.18

I remember when I bought this bag. It was during the first year or so of college. A friend and I were driving to school together that semester, since we were commuters. And one day, she wanted to do a bit of shopping. I didn’t mind, I was sure I could resist the sales. But she took me to one of those really disorganized bargain places. It was clean and everything, but packed full.

That’s the reason we were there so long. It took ages to rummage through what they had. I’m pretty sure we stayed in the purse section the whole time, so I definitely thought I could stop myself from making a purchase. I’m very specific on the brands and materials for my accessories. I’ve had the best luck with Lucky Brand items. Now, I wasn’t going to just sit and wait for her. I browsed the aisles while we talked. And that’s how I found this gem. I justified my spur of the moment decision with “this will be perfect for carrying my books around campus.”

This tote never made its way to my daily school routine. It held my intimates for quite a few years, but then I moved and decided to rearrange a few things. Now this Lucky bag (get it? hehe) holds all my old dance paraphernalia. As if I use it every day or something. It’s my way of holding on to my greatest passion. Plus, it’s cute.