I’m finally in my own house again. Going to Toronto means I give up the comfort of my kitty, my computer, and my enveloping duvet for a few days of authentic Chinese food, real Chinese kung fu movies, silkworm sheets, and a few moments of family dysfunction every now and then.

Time at home left me drained. Turns out that I had an extra party to go to, and this year, I pulled myself up to go boxing day shopping. It was killer on five hours of sleep, but definitely worth it, my best score of clothes in years. Mom was running around every spare moment, preparing food for over 40 people for the New Years Party, while dad practiced his karaoke between runs for groceries. There were two nights that I sat by myself and enjoyed the new projector, and it was the most relaxing time I had during my stay.

As nice as it is to get away, I’m glad this only comes around once a year.

Stepping back to the 25th, I awoke to the sounds of ebullient whispers coming from downstairs as I lie in Julia’s bed, which she’d carefully made for me. I checked my watch, noticed that it was 6:40 a.m., and remembered that Shirley put her foot down about not opening any presents until seven. The kids were already up, of course, their internal alarm clocks set to spring in anticipation, even after we stayed up late the night before, playing wrestling games until the threat of Santa not coming put them to bed.

Instead, Santa went all out this year, from Nintendo DS, to mp3 players, to boxes on boxes of clothes, to DDR dance pads, to portable DVD players, to games for every system. He also left me a mini remote-control Mercedes SLK, and I’d normally say that he shouldn’t have so he could spend more on the kids, but he also left Braden and Bill a mini Hummer and mini Mustang GT respectively, so I had to accept the gift in order to race them.

Just being there was enough of a gift. As the kids ran around, unable to decide what to play with first, I started to consider staying so I could spend the day, but the responsability of prior engagements and time with the parents kept me in check. We had a big greasy breakfast of bacon and eggs, but John was there to pick me up for the four hour drive home before the turkey dinner.

Next year, I decided.

Exactly one year ago today, I was doing this. Even though the annual party at Chris and Clarmen’s actually starts on the 25th, I really see it as a boxing day party, the way a New Year’s party really starts on the 31st of December.

That night we used the excuse of going to Timmies for all the parents as a way out of the house to have a session. Unfortunately, this meant remembering about a dozen drink orders, something that proves difficult under the influence.

In chronological order:

1. We met up at the house, where Darren’s fingers brave the turtles
2. A session occurred outside, and on the way to Timmies we introduced Chris to Dreamtheater (hence the music selection)
3. An order is made for about a dozen drinks with great difficulty
4. We drove back to play Slap Hand, which is a variation on Slap Jack, except the pile is hit every time the correct number is called (and for increased difficulty we played with +/- rules where the pile is only hit if the number spoken is an addition or subtraction of a different specified number)
5. Darren randomly deals everyone a hand of hold ‘em and plays it through, and this causes me to make fun of his obvious addiction
6. Darren precisely deals a full hand of 13 cards for a game of Asshole, while talking, for which I count my cards in disbelief and finally realize just how much he plays cards

Other signs of how stoned we were:

• Darren and Chris’s voices drop an octave, while my voice raises two (two!)
• I can’t keep my jittery hands under control
• The way Chris says, “Just awesome guys. Awesome.”
• At one point we have to stop to count to the right number in Slap Hand
• I laugh, a lot

This year, today, Lam joined us instead since Darren is off in Las Vegas.

The holidays have finally begun. I got off work yesterday after working 12 hours, when I had to close the lab after doing the year-end archiving (a rather nerve-wracking responsability). Everything went well though, and it felt as though a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

After travelling 12 hours here by car, John’s in town to spend a few days with Julia and her family, but I have him booked for today. Even before Harold and Kumar came out in the theatres we made a vow not to see it unless it was with each other and we were blitzed out of our skulls. The opportunity has never presented itself until now, so one can easily imagine my excitement.

Tonight he’s dropping me off at Shirley’s, who’s offered to take me in for Christmas since the summer, since she knew I’d most likely be alone otherwise. I’ll be staying the night so I can wake up early with Braden, Julia, and Nicole, who are seven, nine, and eleven respectively, for the normal Christmas mirth associated with the opening of presents. John’s picking me up in the early afternoon for the five hour trip home. When I arrive, I’m off to the other traditional Boxing Day party at Chris and Clarman’s house.

After that it’s Boxing Day shopping with my mom, the only sort of bonding experience we have, followed by a few days of quiet at home, before coming back here for Aaron’s end-of-year bash. All the social interaction isn’t exactly relaxation, but more of a holiday distraction before getting back to the grind for ‘06.

Pat will be looking after the kitties.

Last night I dreamed of beautiful bokeh.