Its Christmas Time....
Which means a time of joy, a time of caring, unless you are me and I happen to be at my moms. As the humble reader you must understand that my unusual behavior, my "bizarre" style of dress (think 90's grunge/punk), my choice in listening to what my brother refers to as "angry music" and my mom simply calls "filth," and my *gasp!* "deviant" interests in body modification and tattooing are treated with some forced understanding. However when the extended family come I become the family leper, the weird one who never did really succeed like the rest of us. The process is the same every year to the point it feels like clockwork...a few days before the family arrives (the "family" is my sardonic uncle, his bewilderingly sheltered 13 year old son [3rd child of 2 marriages], his girlfriend [an over bearing mother], and her two "perfect daughters") my mom will pull me aside and lay down the ground rules:
1) Dress nicely...what this boils down to is no shirts with violent or offensive imagery or strange clothing (while this might on encompass a small percentage of my clothing it now covers everything right down to my boots)
2) No swearing...at all (quick note I will be the first to admit that I swear quite a bit but I do a pretty god damn good ******* job at not ******* swearing...****)
3) No inappropriate topics of discussion (In other words keep your mouth shut)
4) Always look happy (never show fear it excites them hahahahahaaha *cough* umm at any rate)
then the family will arrive and I immediately start to perform my best interpretation of a plank of wood (Oscar winning I tell you) for fear of "ruining" Christmas...like one year in an attempt to be more "normal" had opted out of my steel toed boots which I though my mom would like...only to stub my toe and start swearing loudly and profusely..at which point my mom pulled (yes pulled) me aside and started to berate me about swearing...that was last year can't wait to see the fun and exciting time this holiday has in store for me...