choked up

Sometimes, I can't tell whether it's emotion or phlegm that makes her voice go like that. She sounds all strained when she talks about the pain in her throat, how it's like knives, so sore that she can't help but panic, and I can't help but wonder what's choking her up. Is it that she's sick? Or is she just sad?

*****

I'm not entirely sure how to feel right now. It's odd, not knowing what I feel or what I should be feeling. I'm trying not to think too much I guess. As you do.

*****
Right now, I'm sitting in my living room, sipping cranberry juice and listening to my parents talking about a stolen car. My brother's in the kitchen, preparing salmon for him, my mum and my gran. My dad's having pie, I'm having Chinese. We'll sit, eat, maybe watch a film, then I'll head off to midnight mass and give out the few cards I've gotten round to writing.

Christmas Eve 2005 has been much the same as in 2004 - I went to Basingstoke with my parents and used the Christmas money my nan gave me to buy all the presents I couldn't afford. DVD for Andrew, CD for mum, a book for my dad and a pashmina for my gran. Just like last year.

I'll show up to midnight mass on time for once. The first time I went I sat with Sian and wore my 99mt t-shirt and felt horribly out of place. Last time I sat on my own because I got there late and some guy winked at me and said "alright darling?" in that tone of voice while we were sharing the peace. This year I'll wear a hat like always and get excited about Christmas presents like always and try my hardest to find where God is in the service, just like always.

*****

Actually I won't wear a hat. I had my second haircut of the year on Thursday and the amount I paid for it, I'm not putting a hat on it.

*****

Txt from my mum's friend Joy, who works with her at Help the Aged.
"happy xmas to you all, how's it going?only took £80 in the shop today and i've spent the evening with my hand up a turkey's arse.does life get any better than this?"

*****

My Christmas presents thus far are as follows:
1 bottle of O'Sheas (Baileys rip-off, £3.99 a litre)
1 beer hat (you know, with the can holders and the straw?)
1 Body Shop gift set (I smell so good, you have no idea)
1 inflatable boyfriend, 18inches tall, who I like to call Steve.
1 bag of Penis Pasta, a humorously shaped source of carbohydrate (that should keep me well-fed throughout January...)

*****

Last night held two parties and a lot of catching up. I got to do whisky shots with my brother, eat trifle with some of my Dublin crew and had the strongest vodka and Pepsi of my life (cheers Phil).

Seeing mates who've been at uni is weird. I always chuckle when someone asks me about uni because, really, how do you sum it up? I tend to go for words such as 'bizarre' because words like 'horrible' or 'wonderful' would be misleading. You sit there with someone you haven't seen since August and you think, since I last saw you you've done so much stuff that I will never know about, you went and lived three months in a completely different world... I'm not sure what to say to you.

First everyone was driving, then they were clubbing, now they're working and moving out and moving in and getting engaged and climbing managerial ladders and growing up. I like it.

*****

Very early this morning I decided to run out of my house and go for a quiet drink of water in someone else's living room. Moments like that are what fairy lights are made for.

*****

Why is it that, no matter how many other books I have to read, I always end up reading the same few books over and over again, depending on what time of year it is? Winter means The Other Boleyn Girl and Cuckoo in the Nest, Christmas means Narnia and Northern Lights.

*****

My nan isn't the only one who keeps getting choked up. I keep wanting to cry for no reason, when I'm on my own or when someone's praying for me. When I'm writing, especially.

I think Becci might have a point about being addicted to blogging. Although with me it's not blogging that's the problem, it's getting my head stuck so far up my own arse that I lose touch with reality. I know the worst thing for me to do right now is to get too introspective; it would be very easy to just wallow in the ol' misery but what's the point? It'd make things worse than they already are and, let's face it, it doesn't make good reading.

I'll be back soon I reckon, in the meantime have a very merry Christmas or Hannukah or capitalist orgy, however it is you like to celebrate this time of year. Remember that Christmas carols mean something, remember that Christ was perfect and remember that the only reason we celebrate his birth is because he died in our place.

Catch you later.