I had the most gods-awful dream.  I dreamed a certain ex and I were hosting Thanksgiving together.  We were doing it at his apartment, only it wasn't his apartment but was our apartment.  Oh, and it wasn't his apartment, but was this bigger apartment that was masquerading as his apartment, because there was room in this apartment for a dining table capable of seating about 12 people.  Both of our families were present, we had both worked hard to set the perfect table.  Everybody sat, we stood to welcome them and to begin serving.  As he was about to carve the turkey he leaned over, kissed me, and told me "Happy Thanksgiving."  Gods-fucking-damnit.

 

It's all so Norman Fucking Rockwell, isn't it?  Fuck you, subconscious.  It all smacks of my being a little 8-fucking-year-old girl with fucking pigtails dreaming of my perfect fucking white fucking wedding.  Gods even fucking know why I'm posting this, because it's all quite personal.  Also, if you're fucking reading this (you know who you fucking are), don't get any wrong ideas.  I may have been stupid enough to wait a very long time for you to come to your senses but I am over you.  This is tapping into something more deep-seated in my psyche and you just happened to be a convenient actor drafted to play a certain part, namely because I thought, at one time, that you would be ideal for the role.

 

So, yeah, I think I can field this one myself.  Despite my anti-holiday exterior I have always had a special place for them.  In my mind they may be a bit more informal than the hallmark version, but they're a happy family time.  While most straight people have the option of going on and starting their own family and being able to host these things themselves, there isn't a chance in the Nine Burning Hells that my family would ever come to a gay co-hosted Thanksgiving.  Unfortnately for me, one of my dreams is to have just one perfect holiday.  I don't think just one godsdamned holiday is too much to ask for, do you?  But every time I've had a boyfriend and have tried for a holiday like that it's been ruined (completely!) by forces beyond my control.  Usually it's the lack of funds that do it in- money may not buy happiness, but greasing the palms of the maitre'd never hurt ones chances of getting a seat in a nice restaurant.  If not money, it's been other people.  I remember a Valentine's Day where I came home with flowers, balloons, and candy.  By the end of the night I had a teddy bear and curse words thrown at me as a door slammed.  I remember a New Year's Eve where I couldn't even sleep with my boyfriend because he didn't have the balls to wake his unconscious, babied, alcoholic friend up from his 3 hour nap and tell him that he gets to sleep on the floor if he doesn't want to go home.  I spent Thanksgivings alone because my family didn't invite me because I wouldn't go anywhere without my boyfriend; unfortunately he didn't feel the same loyalty to me.

 

So, yeah, I would like a perfect holiday.  And I realize that this is quite irrational, because something is always going to happen and it can't be as perfect as the idealistic setting I have in my head anyway.  But I don't need my fucking subconscious rubbing it in my face like this.

 

So fuck you, holidays, fuck you, breeders, and fuck you, men.  If you're not a bitter single lesbian I don't even want to fucking hear from you right now.