Christmas 2009: You mean I missed it?!

I've been reading a lot of posts about everyone's Christmases recently, and most of the time, I find myself so infuriated with reading about everyone's fabulous times with their friends and family and even more pissed off reading grumblings about how everyone overindulged and ate way too much and drank way too much.

So if I haven't commented on your Christmas posts, that's why.

Christmas for me was essentially turned on its head.

Ordinarily, you wake up on Christmas morning, open your presents, and then trundle off to wherever you're supposed to be for your Christmas lunch or dinner.

I woke up to the sound of a work call, very early in the morning. I got out of bed to fix the issue, and found that the battery in the on call laptop was drained. No biggie, just get the AC adaptor and plug it into the wall, right?

WRONG. The AC adaptor was missing, so I couldn't do anything on that laptop.

No biggie, our work has a VPN connection that you can dial into so that we can remote into our work machines from home. I hopped onto my PC and tried to dial into the VPN connection, but it wasn't connecting. When the VPN connection doesn't work, you have no choice but to get up and go into the office.

It was incredibly upsetting, and unfortunately, it wasn't the only time across the Christmas-Boxing Day that I had to go into work. I was absolutely bombarded with calls, throughout the day.

I did, however, apply in advance for some time to go to the gym - and I was very appreciative for the hour in RPM. People think I'm mad for wanting to go to the gym, but let me quote the C&E post I wrote for Christmas Day.

Before all of that though, many people that I've spoken to who are outside of the gym fraternity (hee!) were all completely puzzled by why I would want to go into the gym on Christmas morning. Most of them were of the belief that it was akin to torturing oneself, and if there was one day that one should 'allow' themselves to relax, it was Christmas Day.

On one level, I agree. If you hate exercising with a passion, then Christmas is one day that you should allow yourself to have 24 hours of things you want to be doing. However, if you LOVE exercise and the gym, there's nothing wrong with including a couple of hours in amongst the festivities.

That was the sentiment and buzz from the members in the RPM studio that morning. All of them were there because they wanted to be there - not because they were torturing themselves. Every single member was looking forward to the class, excited to have a good time and work hard and be able to include RPM as part of their Christmas Day. Undoubtedly, those in the Body Pump class would've felt the same thing, as would have those who attended the Body Combat class too. Heck, those on the treadmills and cross trainers and in the weights rooms would've had the same feeling too. On top of that, even the receptionists and gym instructors were also there because they wanted to be there. That's why I've always enjoyed Christmas Day at the gym.

The previous night on Facebook, one of the girls I know from the gym updated her status to say her best friend - someone I also know through the gym - was in hospital. She's a loyal reader of C&E, and this hit me harder than I realised. I knew I wanted to see her, and with a bit of good timing, I met the Non Hospitalised friend and agreed to meet up after the classes were over and head over to the hospital together.

I had to update my parents and tell them that I was going to the hospital instead of coming home to open presents, and understandably, they were not impressed. I told them they could open the presents without me, and my Mum was fine to go ahead with that plan. However, my brother instead suggested we open them in the evening, after he gets home from work. Normally, we open our presents in the morning and that's the best part of the day and it's all downhill from there. Downhill as in 'the best part of the day is over and we now have to do the stoopid family stuff'. This way, Christmas really had been turned on its head, where you had go through the Stoopid Family Stuff before being rewarded with presents.

Myself and two of the girls from the gym went up to the hospital - and I must say, despite the fact that we were going in for a rather sombre reason, it was great fun being with them. We would flick through stations on the radio and see if we could find any songs that were from the Les Mills classes (it really is a fun activity to do if you're a Les Mills junkie). I loved being able to hang out with people as passionate about the Les Mills programmes as I am; it's very refreshing compared to people who just shake their head at you and mutter questions about your sanity levels.

When we got to the hospital, the girl - Tina, lovely C&E reader who is a Combat fanatic - was stunned to see the three of stride on in to the ward. We sat with her a while, and I must say, we were by far the noisiest and laughy-est people there. Tina appeared visibly upset to be in hospital on Christmas morning, but she was more annoyed at missing the Christmas Day Body Combat class. (Ahahahah typical. And I wouldn't have it any other way :-D)

And some of our conversations were just plain hilarious.

Cheryl	Ohhhh I just don't like hospitals
Cheryl	I really, really, don't like hospitals
Tina	Just as well you didn't come in while they stuck the needle in me
Cheryl	Oh no no, I like needles
The Rest Of Us	...
Marshmallow	You LIKE needles?

Who 'likes' needles? It will forever be the ongoing joke between the four of us.

By some supernatural power, I did not receive any calls for work while I was at the hospital. It was lovely to spend time with Tina and the girls, and begin to demonstrate how much she and every other reader means to me. All too often we are separated by this digital barrier that 'artificialises' our interactions. There is a real person on the other end of those interactions, and it hit me hard seeing the reality when one of those real people experience real illness.

As we left the hospital, one of the other women in the ward said to us, "Merry Christmas girls, have a good day. It sounds like you've started already." Sounds like our laughter was heard by more than one person. Hopefully it cheered more people up than it pissed people off. ^_^

I got home from the hospital, and my Mum and I were the only people at home. My Dad and brother had already gone up to my Aunt and Uncle's farm, where Christmas lunch was being held.

All this time, I hadn't actually had anything to eat, so I quickly tucked into some roasted ham that my Dad had made for breakfast. (Yes, for breakfast. Who said it has to be served for dinner?) From past Christmases, lunch is always served insanely late, so last year, I made sure that my brother and I ate before heading down for 'lunch' (which tends to get served at about ~4pm) before going up to my Aunt's farm.

While I was there, I was constantly distracted by work calls - and several of them were very rude work calls. I felt my armour being continually chipped away at, and it was harder to keep up the polite farce.

As the day wore on, the relatives started commenting on my weight, and it got even harder to stay polite. Every single relative questioned whether I was still going to the gym, disbelieving when I said I was still as active as ever. I knew that it was going to be this way, since it's the way my extended family behave every year. It stings, every year, when people comment about the weight gain - they're brutal with it, and compare you to when you were thinner. This year, I didn't care so much, but I just. wanted. them. to stop. It STILL stung since I was more vulnerable, being absolutely fed up with the calls for work.

My foot was throbbing from the ankle injury I rehashed, I was tired from the early morning start, and emotionally fragile. You would think at least I would get to treat myself to a delectable lunch, right?

Wrong. They placed the food outside, the outdoor table not too far away from where all of the animals are, and it was staggering the number of flies that were buzzing around the food. I felt physically sick seeing the flies there, and I couldn't bring myself to eat anything apart from the salad and turkey, which were in covered dishes. And even then, if I wanted a second helping, someone after me left the lids off those dishes too, so undoubtedly a fly or nine would've crawled in there as well.

I wrote a post here earlier that mentioned about how there is a reason why we turn to food in emotional times, and that's because by nature, food is comforting.

But now, I recognise that food by nature, is comforting. In emotional times, we need comfort. And if you let yourself get comfort from food, then so be it. If it were as easy as being emotional and not doing the eating thing, we'd all be doing that in times of emotion.

...

There's no denying it. Food is comforting. It's soothing. And we need food. We die without it. I don't think there needs to be a big stigma because we feel some sort of comfort from food. If we eat to distract ourselves from the emotion, we're in trouble. If we eat to help us cope with the emotion, then we're making progress. Helping to heal yourself.

No doubt I could've really done with some comfort food that day, but the flies got to it first. The fact that I couldn't even eat to soothe made me feel even worse.

I really wanted to find a corner to hide in and cry, I was so tired, and continually being drained. I had to fight against every emotion that was running high to remain my composure and be professional on the phone to the customers. I didn't even want to go to the bathroom due to the fear that the privacy would open the floodgates.

Not long after, we headed off home. My brother had left a few hours earlier since he had to work (yes, on Christmas Night, he had to work), and I hopped on the computer, desperate to talk to someone - someone whom I could just vent on and babble crap about. I didn't want to blog about it, I wanted someone to be there, to respond instantaneously, and talk to them, not a general audience. Of course, everyone else was having a good time with their friends and family, and overindulging and eating and drinking way too much - so there was no one. I managed to send a few text messages to Sarah-I, and I'm so grateful that she replied and had to put up with my whinging.

My brother was supposed to finish work at 9pm, but expected to finish earlier or at the very least, on time. Instead, he finished at 10:30pm, so it really was quite a long wait for us to open our presents.

Thankfully though, if there was one thing that was good, it was the presents. There was one reaction to a present I gave that upset me, but that's going to be saved for another post.

First up, I got handed a large, soft package from my Mum and I said, "I know what this is! It's a Cuddle Buddy! I saw it on your credit card statement!"

She was NOT impressed that I knew what it was. Now, before all of you go "What on earth are you doing looking at your mother's credit card statements???", the reason why is because myself, my Mum and Dad all have a conjoined credit account - so I needed to go through my transactions and pay off my spending on the card. Through going through my transactions, I happened to see the Cuddle Buddy transaction against her card - and so when I felt the present, I put two and two together.

She also bought me a copy of Lagaan, a Bollywood movie that I have been searching for a legal copy to own for YEARS. For those of you not in the know, it's a movie based upon how cricket got introduced into India. It's no wonder it's my favourite Bollywood movie ;-)

My brother surprised me by getting both the latest Killers album, AND the Lady Gaga album.

And my Dad gave me this.

A piece of paper!

Well, it's actually a receipt for the new set of tyres my Dad bought for me. (because that's so much more indulgent than a sportbra. Or TWO sportsbras.)

He's also started this little tradition of where he gives me a cat-themed gift every year, and signs it from the neighbour's cat who likes to lurk on our back deck.

This year, he gave me a little jewellery box.

I love this wee little guy, he makes me smile every time I look at him.

Sarah-II gave me an incredible chocolate package - containing a box of truffles/pralines, a block of dark chocolate, and a Lindt chocolate reindeer.

The nicest little touch though, was the two little marshmallow chocolates.

Awwwww!

Amal made me laugh by giving me an astrology book and an ice-cream scoop.

The thing is, she gave me a Taurus book, but that's not my star sign.

My birthday is on the 20th of April.

Since I'm not really into astrology, the laughter at the incorrect star sign was much appreciated after the way the day had panned out - so I'm glad she gave it to me. I needed a good, honest laugh.

I haven't yet written about my meeting with The Fat Lazy Guy (though I will soon, since it's definitely a memorable one :-) ), though he gave me a tin filled with delectable goodies.

NOMmeriffic. The tin, aside from being beautiful in its own right, came stuffed with a slice of panforte from City Cake, some Bennetts of Mangawhai chocolates, and the cutest lollipop. Awwwwee.

Carrying on from the Christmas Presents From Bloggers - my girl Tully was paying attention when I whinged about how I hadn't bought nearly enough stuff from Koko Black.

AHHHHHH NO WAY! She got me an awesome fruit and nut block and a bag of chocolate flakes that you use when you want to make hot chocolate or a mochaccino. Kek showed me these when she took me on a little whirlwind street tour of Melbourne, and I was kicking myself for not coming away from Melbourne with a bag of the stuff. Now I can save the kicking for someone else :-D

My Aunt gave me a necklace and earring set...

... Worker Jay gave me the DVD for Phantom of the Opera...

And Sarah-I gave me an incredible salad cookbook, filled with recipes that I can't wait to try.

I was most excited, however, by an incredible package that my bosom buddy Kada sent to me. She had already sent me a $30 Nike Platinum voucher, and I couldn't believe it when she sent me another package on top of it.

What was interesting, though, was that I wasn't the first one to open the packaging. There was far too much tape on the box, and the wrapping paper of the package inside had been torn. There was some parts of the present outside of the wrapping paper, which I think may not have been that way that Kada wrapped them up. Inside the package was a letter from New Zealand Customs, saying that the package had been opened, but that no items had been removed. No fair! Those guys got to open my present before I did! Oh well, just as well they didn't steal anything, since look at what I received.

Theeeeese...

and theeeeeeese!

Ever since my trip to Melbourne, I've been an absolute sucker for spiced chocolate. So when I read on YumSugar about the Chuao Chocolatier in San Diego, I babbled to Kada about how I WANTED EEET SO BAD. She not only paid attention to the specific mention of Chuao, but took note of my OMG EXOTIC CHOCKLITZ madness, and included three mini bars of exotic chocolates from Vosges - the Red Fire, Naga, and Oaxaca. It's like I've died and gone to Melbourne. (ahahaha. Sorry.)

Boxing Day was even worse for work, as was the days that followed, and I actually did burst into tears at least once. The rest of the week was incredibly awful and it was shaping up to be a pretty nasty end to the year. Thankfully, the last few days of 2008 did the rest of the year justice.

It's just a crying shame that when I think of Christmas Day for 2008, the on call phone's ringtone is what comes into my head the most.

But don't worry. It'll all seem worth it when I look at my pay slip. :-D