My First Post-Divorce Christmas

So, here's another fine addition to my lame blog.

Instead of talking about anything pop culture or music related (which I never really do anyway), I'll open up and be a little bit personal. After all, my life has always been an open book, much to my risk and chagrin, so why change now?

This year marks the first holiday season that was spent as a single man, after my ex-wife and I split up last spring. In summary, what can I say? It's been an interesting "journey". Did I miss her? At times, yes. The past two months have become increasingly hectic for me. It's as if life has been "ramping up" to what equates to an overmodulation of junk that hit the redline in December. My ex's birthday came and went November 1st, and I didn't even realize it until after the fact - a sign of both being over her, and of being so absorbed by life stuff.

Thanksgiving changed all of that. All of the sudden, I was smacked in the face with the harsh realization that I was spending my favorite holiday without someone who had become one of my best friends. This sort of experience has a tendency to inject a hard dose of 'WTF' into your bloodstream.

Divorce is like a nasty bad breakup, without the ease of making a "break-up box", de-friending someone on facebook, and drinking away your misery the night before Thanksgiving (which I did, btw, and it doesn't really get you anywhere except hungover). You have to realize, that by the time a family gets to that point, the venom is so deep in your veins that it doesn't just go away overnight.

To be frank, December has been a lot of back and forth. I've honestly entertained the idea of trying to rekindle a friendship with my ex, something which many people have warned me is a bad idea. And to be truthful, part of the divorce was about me refusing to hide who I was as a person any longer. I've reclaimed my personality and my lifestyle, and I seriously doubt she would "approve". Regardless, the holidays just seemed to remind me of what I'd lost, rather than what I've gained. Stupid, I know.

So, I had a damn good cry on Christmas night. Cried myself to sleep, in fact, and let it be that. It had been a while, after all, and emotional boys like me need a good cry every so often or else we'll go insane and get jobs at financial institutions. You know it feels good to have a good cry, you get that shit out of you and then you feel free again. You should try it some time.

At any rate. Christmas has come and gone. It had its good times (getting my cousin in trouble with his girlfriend for playing drunken rock band at 4am, chasing my 6-year old cousin Alex around the house with a nerf gun, seeing the looks on my family's faces when they got uber-cool gifts from IKEA, having a fire at my dad's place), and its bad times (being hung-over, having a fight with my mom about life in general, wondering whether I'm a fuck-up for leaving my ex, etc.). But now, it's gone, and who the hell knows what's next.

Oh, that's right. New Years Eve. Oh joy, I can't wait to spend the evening wondering whether I'm going to get a kiss at midnight. Bah. Dick Clark doesn't know how lucky he is!!!

Signing off.