17.12.2008

I need to rant, because i miss home. Not because i am homesick, in fact, it literally feels like some 'switch' has taken place in my head- where Bangor just isnt my life. Its really wierd, becoming as familiar with the tiny building elevators as a translink bus; exchanging High Street for Bolshaya Pokrovskaya. Of course there are still the mysteries and insecurities, but generally it feels like the type of air i breath now isnt Ulster, its Nizhny. Like im morphing from a freshwater fish into a saltwater one, or something. But i do need to rant, because there is one thing that is making me miss home. Making me pine after the hail, the damp bus seats, the carol sevices, the mince pies, our old tree lights that fizzles Jingle Bells, my sister's festive efforts, cars that drive past playing "All I Want for Christmas", candles, selection boxes, Christmas T.V, Love Actually, pillow case stockings, wandering around the Flagship centre, the Bloomfield lights; even the anti-climax, just Christmas in general. and that is, the lack of Christmas. Since the Soviet Revolution, Christmas has become a memory for Russians. It's on the 7th January, and even then, is immensely overshadowed by New Years. They have even totally deranged the meaning of the Christmas Tree by turning it into a 'New Year's Tree'- that are only public decorations. I dont even care about my birthday. I can turn 19 at any time of the year. It's Christmas that i miss. You can argue that the west has lost the meaning of Christmas by turning it into a sort of commercial celebration- and although to an extent that's true, its also not. I dont think its money, or materialism, that unites the entire community in festive cheer. There really is something special about the 25th December, beyond the superficial frivolity of it all. There is something so optimistic about it, that i miss so much. And more then optimistic, there is this spirit of fellowship that really brings people together, that convinces you it would be tragic to spend Christmas day alone, without a friend or your family. Because although it is only 24 hours, there is that once a year magic you really dont want to miss. where for these 24 hours, you should celebrate with someone you love. Apartfrom this one beezer horse and carriage set i nagged my dad about for six months when i was six or so, which he never said 'yes' to, but had waiting for me on Christmas Day (except better; if you pulled the horses' tail, it would walk!) my memories of Christmas rarely involve what i actually got. I remember pulling crackers with my sister, and never winning because she knew 'the knack'. I remember the smell of the Christmas Tree and hanging glass baubles i was afraid to hold too hard. I remember the wrapping paper we had to clean up. And the huge blow up snow men people erect in their front gardens. I remember my granny's living room, with the fire lit and her tiny tree in the corner. Being hyper with my cousins and running riot while our parents drank wine. I remember hearing 'Santa' shuffling presents into our pillow cases, and lying dead still, sweating from terror, in case i was discovered awake, and became the criminal who shattered the illusion. I remember sleeping in the same bed as my sister and brother, and trying to creep downstairs at 3am. Bangor radiating with christmas lights and couples. And someone you knew wearing christmas tree earrings. So you can say Christmas has lost all meaning and is just that jackpot time of the year when you get to write out your list, but its not. If society can join together in the depth of winter, to celebrate- and even to spend money, despite all our daily worries and struggles, surely there is something to celebrate for. Surely there is some magical spirit that moves at Christmas time. And a reason to give presents and sing thank you and be merry, that just brings out the best in people. I love you Christmas. I miss you. Terribly. And the worst thing about it is, its so easy to continue in your absence.

I'm listening to "Miss You Most at Christmas Time" by Mariah Carey, and its so freaking true.

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