The holidays are officially over now, if you are not among the degenerates of society (me) you're back at work by now. Suckas. Now that the pain of holiday time has eased I'll share some of my favorite memories from '09.
Arriving in the Great White North, Father picks me up from airport and on 1.5 hour ride home describes to me, in detail, Little Brother's new found 'experimentation.' Apparently he's been blatantly leaving cigarettes and condoms around the house. I can't tell you how many times I've told my parents that I have just absolutely no desire to hear about these exploits, but still Father proceeds to describe to me how he told Little Brother about the dangers of these things, "You know, there are dangers, you know, diseases and, you know, nothing is a hundred percent, you know, pregnancy and you know, he just doesn't listen." If there was a god he/she would have struck me down right then and there.
Christmas Eve Eve, Fat Brother (not presently fat) gets loser drunk (or in his case, simply drunk), gets kicked out of his friends house in the middle of the night without his coat for god knows what reason. He decides to drive home, regardless of inebriation (has previous 24 hour DUI), puts truck in ditch, tries to walk home (15 km, no biggie) calls home screaming that he's going to freeze to death but cannot explain where on the back roads he is. Which is cool because my mother handles things like that really well (not).
At Christmas dinner Fat Brother called Father a "fucking faggot." The context of this is just not worth the effort of explaining, but suffice to say it was unnecessary (you probably guessed). Little Brother and I succeeded in going the whole meal without saying a word.
On the bright side, the notion that I've lost some weight recently was confirmed by my mother's silence. Whence previously she would have commented about my size, this time she kept mum. Or rather, she kept some other kind of mum, but not my normal mum. Nagging = normal. Silence = golden.
On the ride back to the airport my dad's pickup truck contained one recently deceased cow caucus, with its hind legs flapping out the back of the box. When the airline told me I wasn't going to make it onto my flight I said, "Please, I can't take another day with my family." And the Air Canada whore laughed, and I laughed, and then I cried a little, and prayed to the gods who control the airplanes until I got onto the flight. I now have to sacrifice a virgin, but I made it out alive.