I watched the Carols by Candlelight (in Melbourne) on TV - it was agonizing, an exercise in keeping your insides inside you while the performers reached new hights of kitchiness, but El wanted to watch it (she fancies singing) while she was making a fantastic Christmas Eve dinner, so I permitted it in my all-knowing and tolerant charisma. And the dinner was good, and Guy Sebastian should be called Guy’s aBastard after his singing, which left the audience clawing their ears off, in hopes of turning them backward (like cats and dogs can do) so that they wouldn’t have to hear it anymore.
The next was Xmas (being the logical conclusion and direct result of Xmas Eve finishing). El woke me up 1.5 hours before my alarm would have to dispense with apple strudel. It was good, it was early, I was tired. But then, folks exchanged gifts, and El got for her friend Steve (who’s here right now) a rock. This rock was special because no one could figure out what it was made of, or wouldn’t spend the undoubtedly unfathomable amount of money to run the appropriate scientific tests in a controlled environment with many different probes so that they might divine the mysterious solid material’s fundamental characteristics and crystalline structure (tho it appeared to by amorphous, so crystaline-schmistaline).
Bernard got me a gift, and I was very surprised. But he displayed the prowess of his observational skills by noting the size of my travel towel and acting on that keen sighting. He bought for me a beach towel (now I can properly play on the sand!), and what’s best about it is its (I like that “it is its” - fun with three letters!) pattern: the Australian flag. It was good, it was a bit later, I wasn’t so sleepy.
And then I lazed about for awhile before heading to Ariel’s host family’s house. We were going over to Garry’s sister’s for Xmas lunch. Which turned into quite a long and enjoyable affair (in the strictly platonic sense of the entire sentence). Most excellent food and drink. And I met a French guy - Jean-Luc - who will be house sitting for Garry’s sister in mid-Jan. Jean-Luc is a teacher at a TAFE school and was very pleasant to talk to, once I had a bottle of wine in me. mmmmMMMMMmmmmmmmm Shiraz. We made good conversation on politics and globalization and such progressive ideas. He decided I was fun to talk to and we’ve traded mob #’s so that we may go to pubs and shows when he’s back in town at the house. Again, I was gifted! After the lunch, we moved to the family room and Vicki and Graham (the sister and husband) gave me some candy and a cool candle. It was good, it was the right time finally, and I was sleepy from eating.
I came to a strange conclusion during my dialogue with Jean-Luc. At points during the exchange, my mind began to wander because J-L was still a bit dull even with the extra numbing effects of alcohol. Here it is, or perhaps I shall go thru my thinking process, so that you may feel less bludgeoned with strong assertives. Axiom the first: wine makes you talk about ’smart’ and ’sophisticated’ things. Axiom the second: no wait a minute, maybe it’s the people you’re with that talk about ’smart’ and ’sophisticated’ things. Axiom the third: AH HA! it’s the combination of the two (eureka): ’smart’ and ’sophisticated’ people tend to drink wine, and so when you’re drinking wine, you’ll find yourself in the company of said individuals and thus you mustn’t be surpised to find your mind expanding in new egotistical dimensions.
When I returned from the function, I found El and Steve and another of her friends upstairs in the loft-like demi-recording studio part of the house. They were talking, and apparently had just finished a bit of wrestling. The new friend had to leave tho, and so El declared that I must be her new drinking partner (seeing as how Steve was staying dry this evening). So I obliged. More wine, white and then red. And we three we talking and listening to music. Then Bernard got home, found us entranced by Evanescence (one of El’s favorite groups right now), and quickly extracted his saxamaphone. He started playing along with the melody, so I grabbed the geetar and started strumming the chords. It was fun and impromtu, El began to sing, and Steve just listened. It was good, it was late, and I was sleepy from merrimaking.
Then, B put on some blues and dancing began. After which, Portishead made an appearance until Steve wanted to sleep (he was sleeping on the futon matress in the loft). Then I went to bed, for tho it was good, and tho it was late, I was too tired.
So that was my most varied Xmas ever.