Exmas

This is a funny time of year. It’s that time when ghosts from our past often emerge bringing a variety of items with them. Some bring gifts, others luggage, and all too many bring baggage. That’s Not Chinese was sharing some stories with me about a friend who was part of her past, became part of her present and, even though ’tis the season for present(s), is soon to become part of her past, again.  The more we talked about the situation I decided this friend, like so many others, puts the ex in Exmas.

That’s Not Chinese quite liked this theory and would probably like it even more if she knew what I learned (later while doing ‘research’): the ‘x’ before ‘mas’ is Greek. I’ve no doubt she would be very pleased to learn this abbreviation was credited to her people and was not, like most of the gifts we all got this year, made in China/Chinese.

Later in the evening I was spending time with Tree and FatGirl and their friends, Shadows, Jazz Hands and What’s Your Name?. FatGirl had been outside chatting with other patrons of the bar and returned to tell us about it, “I just ran into a guy I used to date and a guy I used to talk to.” Proof, again, that Exmas is in the air. “So,” I asked, “are these two different people and, if so, why did you only just ‘talk to’ the one guy?” “Yes, they are two different people and I only talked to him because that is what we did until we didn’t do it anymore.” Based on his response I made an assumption that, if their conversations were frequently like this one, it was probably best that they stopped talking.

We were celebrating Tree’s birthday and, due to a prior engagement, I was not able to participate in the dinner and cake. FatGirl felt compelled to provide me feedback, “Tree was not very happy about the fact that you didn’t participate, but I’m over it, so that’s good.” “Really glad you’re ok with it,” I told him.

As the night progressed and we were sharing more ‘feedback’ with each other, Tree told me the last time we were here FatGirl left me on the dance floor, pranced over to him and said, “You have to come and dance with me. She is a horrible dancer – dances like a white girl.”  Sometimes, reminding FatGirl of one’s ethnicity is unavailing.

As we laughed about FatGirl’s comments I threw down some of my signature dance moves, specifically the hobot. A few minutes later one of the patrons approached me and said, “You are a great dancer. I just love watching you dance. Thank you.” I shared this feedback with FatGirl who immediately approached the man and said, “You’re a damn liar.”

Ah, Exmas, that time of year when domestic disputes are the primary call for law enforcement and we swear to ourselves, “I am not doing this again.” Yet, like that ex who we often let back in our lives, only to realize, once again, that they put the ‘next’ in ex, we will all get nostalgic and hopeful when Exmas rears it’s ugly head, again, next year.