Don we now our gay apparel

I have had such a love / hate relationship with this season of the year. From my participation in the Church, I love it. Episcopalians have always been accused of being much fonder of the Incarnation than the Resurrection. Judging from our seasonal celebrations, it would appear so. Of course, there are more services Holy Week and Easter, spreading out the opportunities for the faithful who have limited time, and less visitors. We have such good entertainment at on Christmas Eve, it draws a lot of “tourists.” But, after all, it is easier, more palatable, to deal with babies than with bodies. Birth and babies are a bit more everyday, a bit more in the mainstream of life. Death and resurrection are less so. Well death is very much there but quite unattractive. Resurrection takes a lot of faith, after all.

The part of the season I hate it the decorating, shopping, gift giving, entertaining, etc. Just how gay am I? Sometimes I wonder. But it’s old stuff that rears its ugly head in my life that brings me down.

Within my dysfunctional family of origin we tried to pretend we were having a good time. One Christmas, my mother (a nurse) worked overtime to get this hunting vest my father (an SOB) wanted big time. It has a place to put shot gun shells and stuff. There are probably many reasons I don’t like hunting, either.

She got a hunting vest, but it was not precisely the one he wanted. It was trimmed in vinyl or something, not leather. In other words, it wasn’t the most expensive one, “the best.” To him it was a cheap copy and he was outraged. At least, he raged. He yelled, screamed, etc. I don’t recall if he got violent that time, but there were certainly other times.

As years went by, he wouldn’t scream, just a hrmph, and the silent treatment. Hmm.

My mother dealt with depression all the time, and so she would go to work, and come home and sleep. Decorating was something of a last minute thing, and not always very creative. I cannot remember a year when she didn’t say, “Let’s just make it a simple Christmas this year, let’s not spend too much.” Of course there wasn’t a lot to spend.

The right, perfect, affordable Christmas present is my life long goal. Surely it must be out there, and there must be some way I am supposed to be able to figure out what it is. But I never can figure it out. And I am so Attention Deficit that I can’t remember shit, and can’t focus on shopping, and so forth, and so on.

Enough of all that. Christmas has always been a time when I could never please anybody enough.. It was never, ever enough. Are you getting depressed right now? Well, you should be. Because if you aren’t then I’ll have to be depressed all by myself, and , , , ,

Enough. This year has already started out differently. It is going to be a good year. I figure that nobody may like my decorating ideas, but I don’t give a shit. I am going to take some initiative and get some decorating done today!

I figure I can let some gayness out. I know it’s good for this type of thing. I’m going to let it rip. You go, honey. Do it.

If only with myself (and you, my extended, electronic “family,”), coming out has given me a sense of peace about some things. I’m still f---ing scared as sh-- (I always cuss when I get anxious), but I’m going to let some of that queer eye come out. Some of the gayness that leads me to love decorating things and celebrating.