I'll Be Home For Christmas...If Only In YOUR Dreams

[Even though the last exam, the dreaded Civil Procedure, isn't until tomorrow, I think I can safely declare the hiatus O-V-E-R.]

[Did the hiatus (which nevertheless included plenty of blogsurfing during those rare quiet moments at the Cute Vic) do any good? Well, I aced last Monday's Con Law exam, and passed (at least) Real Property and Evidence. Worst case scenario: one high B and two C's.]

[(Begin not-particularly-well-written-but-necessary-rant about family and the holidays. Skip at will.)]

[Unfortunately, real life refused to go on a hiatus in return. My sister and brother-and-law decided months ago to go to Africa at the end of the year, missing Christmas with the family. Christmas has always been a big deal to my mom, but she seemed to be OK with having an early celebration before Kate and Mike left. I tentatively said OK, and especially after Grandma died at the beginning of November, I thought John and I would be able to pull out of our own lives to make it to Sonoma last Sunday.]

[C'mon, real life, can I get a hiatus? Of course John's busiest time of year at work is the couple of weeks before Christmas. Of course I made my midyear exams more stressful than they needed to be. Of course I had to plan my work schedule around my exams, so anytime last week I wasn't testing, I was behind the hotel desk. Of course the problems with our roommate are coming to a head right now. (These are of a nature that I don't feel free to go into detail; let's just say they're awfully familiar.) Of course it's been raining almost nonstop for the past week, making getting anything done take twice as long with twice the frustration.]

[Of course last weekend was the absolute worst time to try to get away, even for a few hours, to join the family for an ersatz, early Christmas, especially since John and I would be expected to do it all again on the 25th. Mom realized at Thanksgiving (when we postponed the dinner until the next day) that it was really important to her to do something on the day itself, especially this year.]

[Did I suck it up, put off my own pending insanity (you should have seen me, stalking thru the Tenderloin to my Property exam, muttering to myself like...every other person on the street), go to Sonoma for the two or three hours I would've been able to devote? Nope. At John's sensible urging, we called the parents on Friday, told them all of the above, and said we just couldn't do Sunday. They went ballistic: short notice; this year of all years; we've already bought a tree and food for six; we're under a lot of stress, too; it can't be THAT bad driving to Sonoma in the pouring rain after working since 7AM, then driving back to San Francisco late at night, trying to find parking downtown, trying to get to sleep, and being at work at 7:30 the next morning; "you've failed..." (Exact quote from Dad, who claimed, and was quickly corrected, that I'd missed several Christmases when I lived in Santa Barbara.)]

[I'm not doing guilt. As much as I loved Grandma, she used guilt freely as a tool her whole life to get her way. Mom and Dad do it, too, and I often fall for it. Not this time, and I'm not going to use it back. We just didn't go on Sunday, and I called them during dinner. (In my absence, they burned the Yorkshire pudding, and couldn't remember how long to cook the roast. I think they told me to exert more guilt, but I just smiled.) Initial forced merriment over the phone eventually turned genuine, so I guessed we're not pissed at each other anymore.]

[Guess who's coming to San Francisco on the 25th? We'll have a pleasant, civilized, ADULT Christmas, DAMMIT!]

[End rant.]

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