My horrible very bad no good half brother, the evil lying stealing one, got my parents a digital picture frame this year.
SO DID I!
I was so damned excited to find them a gift I thought they could really use, 'cause they’re so hard to shop for - and then Fuckwit goes and STEALS MY FUCKING IDEA.
He also gave me one. A much cheaper one.
At any rate, I put pictures on the one I gave them. Fuckwit set his up on the bar in the kitchen, I set mine up at the computer where my parents spend all their time. So fuck you, fuckwit.
Surely I’m not the only one feeling guilty about being pissed off about something at Christmas? Share, please. (Fuckwit also spend two fucking hours at my parents’ house with his obnoxious children along before he finally left so we could do our own Christmas. Fuck you, Fuckwit. I drank three glasses of seriously spiked eggnog just to cope.)
I feel guilty because I got pissed off at a church of all things.
I was about to leave for work at 10:30 tonight (subject of another Christmas rant, I guess) and I heard incredibly loud Christmas music blasting through my walls. I put my ear up to the dividing wall between the neighbor’s house and mine, but it wasn’t them.
When I actually went out the door, I saw where it was coming from - the Methodist church that’s about 100 yards from my front door. They had people outside in the 35° weather with tubas and all kinds of assorted loud horns. Hey, that’s fine if you want to do your little midnight Christmas service, but there’s really no need to wake up the whole neighborhood in the process.
Forgot one: the company that I ordered six presents from on the 14th that didn’t ship them out until the 18th, thereby ensuring that five relatives and a friend won’t be getting their gifts on time this year.
The only present I got this year was from my sister. She’s been talking this present up for weeks – telling me how much I’m going to love it, how it’s absolutely wonderful, and she knew it was the perfectest present for me.
There were two things in the box: a dancing hamster that plays the hamster dance (Hampster Dance, what the fuck ever) and a Vera Bradley handbag. (It’s the third one in the discontinued colors. You know, the ones that are on sale.)
I HATE the motherfucking hamster dance. The card she sent me for my birthday? A musical one that played the hamster dance. I also find the handbag incredibly ugly and entirely non-useful. I have to carry my glucometer, insulin and glucagon with me wherever I go. The bag is too damn small to fit that and my wallet. She knows this. It’s not like I haven’t been doing that for the past TWENTY years.
She bought me things that she loves. She finds the hamster dance infinitely delightful. She loves ugly, overpriced handbags. She comments regularly that if she was as young as me, she’d dress so much more crazily and provocatively and do all sorts of ZANY things. (She just turned thirty-one this year.) I’m not you! Stop it!
So, I told her I didn’t like it after she asked me. Politely, of course, and after thanking her. And now she hates me and won’t talk to me.
I spent 40+ hours knitting her a lace stole in her favorite color in an alpaca and silk blend. I’ve worked on it every day since Dec. 1 for two or more hours. I wove the last end in this afternoon. It’s gorgeous.
Oh, and the brother I made a fleece blanket for for Christmas? The one who bought my other brother a Nintendo DS and presents for everybody else? He got me nothing. And my parents? Who bought one brother an electric guitar and amp and the other brother a laptop? And gave my sister money for her wedding? They gave me forty dollars and an unsigned card hours after everyone else had opened their piles of gifts, and I had simply decided that everybody else had forgotten about me.
And nobody in my very large family wished me Merry Christmas, and only my grandma asked me why I was upset. Bah humbug.
Yes, I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. But a simple “Merry Christmas, I love you” from somebody would have been nice.
I thought I went to Mexico to escape Christmas drama, but instead I brought it with me. Next year I’m booking a flight for myself to freakin’ Mumbai and not telling anyone.
My aunt got me a necklace along with a giftcard for Christmas. Mom had approved necklace aunt bought beforehand, because aunt really wanted to get me something ‘to open’ and I am picky about jewerly. But aunt broke her son’s girlfriend’s gift and gave her my necklace instead, and ended up giving me a really unattrative one, which I had to pretend to like and now have to drive 20+ minutes to return. May sound ungrateful, but this necklace is really ugly/so not me and I wish she would have just put $20 more on the Gap card, because I actually need jeans (lost weight) and Gap is the only place that makes them long enough for me (which she knows) and they are $60/pair.
My mother, who is hip deep in financial problems and always will be, sent me a box full of Christmas ornaments when I asked for one. Mom, I love you, but quit it!
As far as I can figure, it’s because I’m the only adult grandchild who is not newly engaged or freshly home from the Air Force. My youngest brother is still young enough to be considered a kid, and he’s the baby of the family anyway. I just slipped through the cracks this year, having not accomplished anything so remarkable as being engaged or graduating from basic training.
I learned that lesson the hard way, too. This year, I cross stitched for myself: “Never make elaborate knitted presents for anyone other than other knitters”
Sorry your beautiful gift went under appreciated
If you post a pic of it over in MPSIMS, we’ll give you an ego boost by genuinely fawning over it
I’m sorry. That’s really shitty, and I don’t think there’s really a better way of saying it.
Pullet, that’s the thing: She loves it. She really appreciates it and knows that a lot of work went into it. And her fiancé has promised to introduce me to his mom and grandma, who are both amazing knitters. So on top of feeling bad enough that my sister and I argued on Christmas, I also feel really guilty that I don’t love her gift like she loves mine, when she completely expected me to.
Goddamnit, I’m going to go build an igloo in the woods and stay there until after Easter.
Miss Purl: Well, at least she has a little class
Still, she demonstrated a complete inability to put herself in your shoes when picking out your gift, which would sting even if you hadn’t put so much time and thought into your gift to her. In honesty, she couldn’t have hoped to match your gift unless she is also crafty. She should have coped to it and offered you something more intangible, like a concert tickets or dinner at a nice restaurant. Or hell, even a night out at the movies. It sounds like your relationship with her is good enough that time together would have made a lovely gift. (or did I read way too much into the last couple posts??)
We’re usually really close and get together really well, but with her recent engagement, all her Type A personality traits have come out in full force. Both of us are assertive (not bitches, just assertive), but neither of us like to be wrong, so she’s never going to admit that she sometimes really misses the mark when it comes to gift-giving. Another year, she gave me a compilation of quotations by William Safire, just as I was entering my ultra-liberal, baby-feminist stage, which we talked about extensively. Somehow, the idea of giving me a book compiled by a leading conservative of quotations by dead white guys struck her as a brilliant idea, because I really like that “old-fashioned stuff.”
I would have loved to have gone to a play with her or just visited her house for a weekend and gone wedding dress shopping with her. I have lots of interests and hobbies and she lives twenty minutes from a fantastic yarn shop. Ugly handbag? No! And then you’re going to get all butthurt when the only present I got I hate? ARGH.
OK, I think I need to stop posting, because I’m just making myself angry again, and I’d like to apologize to my sister tomorrow and make it through Christmas dinner alive. It would be a shame if the ham gave me heartburn because I was still pissed off.
Things to remember: I love my sister, my grandmother very much liked the doily I crocheted her, and there are still stockings tomorrow morning.
While my rant is minor compared to to everyone elses, I’m glad someone started this thread. So I can complain.
Yesterday, I came down with a cold. A bitch of a cold, with a nose that won’t stop running until the right sinus cavity gets packed full of snot and then NOTHING will come out. Which, fine, okay, I haven’t had a a cold for years so I can deal with this.
But it automatically gets me banned from the family Christmas gathering. My mom is too susceptible to catching stuff and having it develop into more serious illnesses – she has emphysema – and my brother in law’s mother also has serious health problems that can be exacerbated by any minor sickness like a cold.
So, that leaves me sitting all alone with a fucking box of tissues as company. And my nephew (my sister’s son from her 1st marriage) is joining us for the first time in years. Yeah, he’s 25 now and everything, but for a long time he was like a combination little brother and son to me and having him around as an adult is a real treat for me now. (I’m 11 years older than him…)
So I miss my step dad’s birthday party on Christmas Eve, and today I miss Christmas. And right now my head is stuffed like a freaking Thanksgiving turkey and my right eye feels like it’s bulging out.
Thank you for the opportunity to bitch. I feel a little better now.
Miss Purl McKnittington - Merry Christmas, I love you.
Br’er Lapin, I’m so sorry. My beloved grandfather died on New Years two years ago, after we’d been up there for Christmas for the first time, well, ever. We’re all so glad we went, but my mom is scared to go up to Pittsburgh for Christmas again because she’s convinced herself that if she goes, Grandma will die. Planning a holiday funeral is really the pits.
I got an MP3 player, and the instructions say to use the CD to find out to set it up. Problem: there is no CD. Dammit. (I’ll have to call this week. Fuck)
A relative said that they needed ‘some money’ or else they were going to lose everything, as they are currently in bankruptcy and can not afford to miss a payment. Of course, they can’t afford anything, period.
Personally, I would have just let them slam headfirst into that financial wall if it weren’t for the fact that an eight-year-old relative would not have had a Christmas.
It’s not like I’m overflowing with money, but I am financially solvent, which–in comparison to most of my relatives–makes me look like Bill Gates.
Fuck Christmas with a goddamn peppermint-striped dildo.
