You thought your Christmas was fucked up?

How was your Christmas Michelle? You ask?

Christmas Eve.

I spent the day freaking out how I’m going to get things done in time for Christmas. Rafa and I are separated, so he has the girls this week. But I was blindsighted with 2 social studies fair projects and a flu during Solma’s birthday week, so I had to procrastinate the Christmassing Preparations until last minute.

I wanted to go to church really bad Christmas Eve Sunday morning, and while I was putting on my shirt, I realized you can see the arm pits. My kids lost my last razor a month ago. You could almost braid the hair by now. So I frantically search for about a half hour for a razor, and I find a cartridge of razor edges that snap into a stick that Rafa left in the bathroom nobody used. Using my finger nails, I managed to get enough grip of the little plastic thing sticking out to snap into a stick, and I gently scraped the hair off my underarms and I was no longer a hippy feminist.

I drive to church, but by now, I was 35 minutes late and only half way there. So I shopped for last second gifts instead, and then I went home to retrieve my cell phone and stuff I forgot. Then I go to my mother’s house where I was storing gifts to wrap them.

My mom and I ended up doing some last second shopping together first, and by the time I go to wrap, it was 5 or 6 PM. I hadn’t eaten all day, so when mom offers me a bowl of red cabbage meat stuff, I don’t care what it is, I want some. I’m hangry. We heat the bowl too long, so I stir and wrap a couple gifts while I wait for it to cool. My mom leaves to prepare the choir for evening service, and I wrap. Then a few minutes later, I go to eat my bowl, and it’s in the sink empty. Fuck me.

I wrap for an hour or so, starving, and then I decided to see if McDonalds or someone was open on Christmas Eve for my Christmas Eve Supper and you know what? I think I’ll just go over to church. I’ll get things wrapped. I’m sure.

I go to church. In the parking lot, I finish my cigarette. I get out of the car, and these two woman getting out of the car behind me jumped as if I startled them. So I apologize for startling them, and they start going on and on about how their car was beeping, they told him it was beeping, they are so sorry. I’m like, “It’s ok. My car beeps too all the time.” I look over, their car is like almost touching mine. If they bumped me at all, it wasn’t enough to feel.

Then the man of the family steps out and apologizes. For what, I’m still not sure. Just parking too close? Maybe they did bump me. I’m laughing, and he’s like, “I was trying to prove to them that you CAN parallel park without putting the car in drive,” and I’m like, “I totally understand, I do that too with myself, like nobody is in the car to prove to but my own brain.” Then I add…

“I thought I scared your wife and daughter, like I was finishing my cigarette, but I do that a lot and people act like i’m being creepy sitting in my car alone for no reason in a parking lot, like those are the types of looks I get. As much as everyone hates tobacco and cigarette smoking, that I’m killing the world with second hand smoke, it’s hard to admit to people it’s a cigarette, like, “Nothing to see here. I’m not sinning or anything. I swear it’s marijuana.”

They all laughed.

When church was over, I was waiting for the line of the crowd to get through so I could get into that aisle to leave. Well, the guy I talked to walking in recognized me, smiled, and motioned for me to jump in next to him. So I did. His lovely wife was right in front of me, and she was TROPHY WIFE to the max. We are talking long brown hair, healthy and shiny hair, with a tan that didn’t look fake at all, perfect make up, and nice body. She was wearing a tight knit dress in the shade of red. I started to turn my head toward the husband to say something, but my eye caught his wife’s ass. It wasn’t as big and obvious as Nicki Minaj’s butt implants, but it was an all-natural version of that shape. Not too big. Not too small. You could set a drink on it, but not two drinks. I just stared at it for a second.

1. You never see an ass like that on a white woman, especially suburbia trophy wife. They generally have a butt so flat, it’s just an extension of the back with a crack in it. So this thing is something I may never witness ever again in the history of man. I knew that.

2. I was jealous. Super jealous. I would kill for an ass like that. Sometimes I worry mine is starting to sag with age, and I’m going to lose my entire appeal. This woman was probably older than me with perky ass cheeks. I want to know her secret. Pilates?

So in that time, my head might of slanted to the right as I checked out this woman’s ass as obvious as I could.

It caught me by surprise.

Dude starts laughing. I immediately turn red. I apologized like 5 times to him.

So yeah, I just got caught checking out a woman’s ass by her husband. It’s weirder when you’re a woman. And at church. In front of Baby Jesus.

So I go back to my mom’s house. She has guests. They are munching on crackers and cheese on expensive plates sitting around the dining room but not around the table, chatting like it’s tea time.

I’m not sure how she did that so fast.

It was surreal. Like my mom might of mastered traveling through time somehow. But walking in, I couldn’t help but to notice a young buck sitting next to my mother. I have never met this man before. He was my age. And hottie McHot.

We are talking chiseled goatee, bow tie (melting in my own cream, I love a bow tie on a young man), black velvet vest and jacket (not the cheap kind), black socks with red dots, and square tipped shoes.

I know you’re thinking, “He’s gay.”

Yes. Yes he is. He started speaking, and I knew it then. He had a little flame in his slur, but then he started making sassy eyes when he spoke, and I cried.

Why God? Why? Why are all the hot ones gay?

BUT wait a minute. According to the transgender in the LGBTQ community, a person’s gender is not defined by their sex organs. So if a person’s sexuality is inclined to like men, like if I’m masculine enough, would that be enough?

It’s possible, for the first time ever, I found a man who would find the fact that I haven’t shaved my legs in 3 months to be sexy.

Then even better. I find out he bakes amazing cupcakes.

I know it’s a long shot, but I got my sights on a gay man, it’s just that I might be too masculine for him in the sense that my idea of coordinating clothes is black and blue, I do think pajama pants are normal pants sometimes, my car resembles a Bruce Willis movie in the idea of cleanliness, and I drink my vodka straight from the bottle.

And it’s possible this man isn’t ready to be a mother.


Well I woke up early to a white Christmas. I cleaned a bit and prepared for the girls to stop by. Rafa dropped them off about 8AM, and they opened their gifts, jumping in excitement at what they got. Despite getting half of what they normally get, not one complaint. They didn’t fight. They were completely grateful.

We take our time and lolly gag through the day in no hurry, listening to soothing Christmas songs, and they put on their new dresses, and we go to my mom’s. We lived a Norman Rockwell painting for about an hour or two while the family ate a delicious dinner, the kids opened their gifts, they played nicely together…

Then. My sister walked in.

It’s possible… I think Odin was pissed I sent him an ice sculpture of Jesus Christ turning water into wine for his Yule dinner with a card that says “Happy Holidays,” but the day was smited. I don’t know who smited it. But someone smited the day.

The gods were definitely upset about something.

Some of it I can’t even post here because all the people involved are here, but trigger warning, crazy fucking families.

I was in the car smoking a cigarette (3 cigarettes), and my daughter Gabby comes out to tell me that the shit has hit the fan inside the house. I go in, and then some family members started kicking out other family members like a bouncer in a bar. This is after a screaming rage.

I say my goodbyes. Humiliated (alongside my mother who too shared that shame) because we failed at hosting this year, I realize a lot of things about my family, huge problems I can’t solve.

I take the kids back to Rafa’s, and I tell him the story because I want to be transparent when it comes to stuff like this. But I also needed to vent. He just stood silently and with a gruff face, wished me a good night he’ll see me in the morning to pick up Annie’s blanket she forgot.

So I go to a friend’s house. We drink coffee and vent our problems to each other until about 1AM. I get home, and my front door is wide open. The cat let himself in or out or both and my house was 50 degrees inside. So I ended up sleeping in my car.

I’m serious. I slept in my car in front of my apartment.

So Christmas was awesome and it sucked. The beginning and end are so opposite that it’s a paradox of a day.

And I’ll be posting in safe mom and mental health groups for advice for the family dynamics I’m up against, so if you got a recommendation for such a place, feel free to tell me. I really need someone who knows a lot about sociopathy and personality disorders.

SHIT. I forgot to get a picture of the kids in front of a tree in clothes that don’t embarrass my future gay lover.


Gabby on the Front Door Thing: I keep explaining that I hate when the cat does this because it’s embarrassing. Gabby’s response, “Mom, I can’t believe you don’t care if people rob us. Like your only concern was that people saw how messy the house was?”

Yep. It’s bad enough when people rob you, but to also judge you while they are doing it? With my luck, I can see it now. People break into my house to rob me and then trip over the roller skate that is covered in walmart bag and sue me.

I wonder if I tell the kids to clean before bed in case we get robbed if that would work… Like being afraid to die in ugly underwear.

1 Comment

  1. My Christmas sucked too. Honestly I think it was the worst one I’ve ever lived through. My friend constantly berated me about everything. Christmas Eve through Christmas Day. The lack of restaurants open. The presents I gave. My laziness. The only respite was vodka. I’m still tore up about it, as I had such high hopes and I pawned all my valuables to buy gifts etc. I never felt more like I wasn’t wanted in my life.

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