One of my dear friends and I have a long-running joke that we will fake our last names so that people think we are from one of the long and well-established families of our area that streets are named after, like I am Joy 101 of the 101s,Yes, we have been called the river-of-life, you may have heard of us, Joy College, Joy Redwood, etc. which is pretty silly but made me want to claim to be one of the famous Joys of Christmas, you may have heard of us…because everywhere you can see my name lit up in lights, on cards, and yes, in adoption.
Like I am obsessive about adoptee-rights, I am obsessive about Christmas, it is so fun, it is releasing all that creative energy without the judgment and gravity of art. Craft is awesome. I realized recently that if I don’t do something creative everyday, I don’t know what would happen, but it would involve me screaming, of that I am sure. People are always on about God, you know, God, God, God, which often ends up meaning, “my ego, my ego, my ego” God laid upon my heart that the last piece of pizza is for me, God laid on my heart that I live a privileged life and congratulate myself for deigning to start to have the idea that other people are real but not to actually follow through with that idea and instead manipulate other people like they are mere props in my life. Ooooh, all this religious hostility oooozing out of me —-and at Christmas! I blame it on the butter, despite my resolve not to bake, I have been baking like a mother-fucker, which we all know only leads to one greasy road, butter. Which is weird because my other latest obsession is counting calories, those of you that know me irl know you cannot have a conversation with me without talking about calories. Even at Thanksgiving when I was regaling everyone with my fascinating, and compelling stories about how many calories are in radishes Tomtom burst out with, “My God! This is all she ever talks about!” So boring. So hideous, so neurotic and middle-aged lady, well to everyone else, to me it is fascinating.
Back to my God-talk though, so there were a few things I did connect to from the Bible however, like this one written for adoptoraptors adopting for Jeebus:
Matthew 6:1-34 ESV
“Beware of practicing your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them, for then you will have no reward from your Father who is in heaven. “Thus, when you give to the needy, sound no trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may be praised by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you. “And when you pray, you must not be like the hypocrites. For they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, that they may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. …
See? Even Jeebus doesn’t like you…he loves me though, I mean old Jewish men have a thing for blonde shiksas, plus I am much younger than he is. Like I have said before, I have actually read the Bible, why? I am not sure, I think because everyone was talking about it and I wanted to see what the fuss was, the first time I read it I was a child, and read only the new testament in some weird, “Good News For Modern Man” version and then when I was a coke-head the St.James version, which caused for a lot of cross-referencing and confusion like the Bible is not confusing enough! I also have a copy that is supposed to be truer to the Aramaic, it has been enlightening but also boring and I have only read bitty-bits, but even the bits are terribly interesting but for some reason have no desire to study it further. I want to read the R.Crumb Book of Genesis but even though I have felt this want for over two years have not had any action around it.
I get so frustrated with people pretending to understand things that according to the Bible they will never understand:
1 Corinthians 3:2
King James Bible (Cambridge Ed.)
I have fed you with milk, and not with meat: for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able.
So whatevs speakers for God, how did you not notice that even your God’s word says that you don’t know? Erm score another for Team Agnostic. See again, Jeebus sides with me, I am his favorite and yes, I will have that piece of pizza, but no I won’t it has like 210 calories! Satan was tempting me with that cheezy-oily-sin.
The thing that I did like from the religious was the idea that God was the creator and that we are made is in his image, so then we are creators, so we have a duty to create so what do creators do? Make stuff, like candy. But be forewarned my fellow God’s creatures who were created in all of His wisdom, creation is the other side of the coin to destruction, it is borne of fraught and peril:
OMG, so beautiful, like a piece of hard-candy itself! So deep, the crappy pic. I took doesn’t do it justice, three layers, my thumb is holding back the bandage but part of that whiteness is my skin, the hardest part about pulling candy is the gloves and I have not discovered the perfect ones yet, but when I do, I will tell you. Patience as a virtue has always eluded me but as I age, I have become more virtuous in that regard, although apparently not enough. Like my mother who in her fifties pulled-out her back as she had morphed into super-lone-hero-furniture-mover. She tells me these stories and LeSigh, I can’t help but think, “sounds like me” sounds like me just wanting things done and not taking care…
Which despite staying up until 2:30ish a.m. to make candy to feed to people I care about and then watch in horror as they totally mack on it and I want to scream, “But that is 278 calories per ounce!” oh butter is the devil, what butter makes us do to gain affection and love, harm those that we care about, plus I think I have gained weight through my pores and olfactory system…anyway, despite that fun, and have finally finished my Christmas cards which will be posted on Monday and if you get one, know that I think they are totally punk-rock and don’t disabuse me of this notion as I am as protective of it as an adoptoraptor eating pizza for Jeebus or at least buying a bratling. I know! you may find them hideous and ugly but that is the aesthetic. Also, in the original conception the Christmas tree was black and am still not sure why it is pink and the salutation “Kill,Kill,Kill The Poor” is all in fun. I mean I did sign it “Christmas Uber Alles” that is good cheer right?
On another note, my Palestinian Bodega owner informs me that the true spirit of “Baba Noel” is to give a gift anonymously to someone for something they really need. Ima do it, I think it is kind of awesome. Of course through an organization as in our day and age to do it otherwise would be interpreted that you are a pedophile.
On another, nother note, my God! so many notes, a Christmas carol perhaps, I am sad that my relationship with my mother is not including a Christmas visit and it is not because she isn’t being lovely, but this time, because I am acting like a total dick. When I am not in a Christmas-crafting-mania I am so sad that I can not connect with my family of origin. I am happy that I continue to connect with my afamily well, but I care about and want my nfam-fam in my life too, but can’t have them because they terrify me as a group and I have been acting like a dick. Which is weird because I so don’t want to do that, but I keep doing that.
I was so determined to let the past go in this last year, but while I have had moments of release, I also have all this doubling-over pain. It is so raw, so real, so visceral. I am not like this with ANYONE else. It hurts like you wouldn’t believe. Oh did you know I am getting married? I am, it is official, but later because I hate being married, but whatev, so the wedding planning, I planned it all out, no guests outside my son and his gf. Which SH objects to, because well he wants to have a big festive thing, well except I can’t do anything with family that includes all of my family, in part because not all of them want to be included, in part because my adoptive parents really do want to own me, in part because my nfamily really did reject me. Nevertheless, because I am retarded or something, I love all those people and anyone’s absence stings me, no sting is not the word, slays me. Slay is the word.
SH gives in to my demand that it is a civil ceremony, poor guy. Poor guy who loves me unconditionally, it must be some kind of gypsy curse he has to love me like that, maybe in his next life he will be nicer to gypsies. Poor guy who is too afraid of my birthdays and Christmases, and monthly bills to question me. Poor guy who has funded a lot of my trips to try to repair my relationship with my mother and natural family and has been careful and graceful and empathetic, not only to me but my mother.
Okay, back to happiness, the favorite thing said to me this hand-burning Christmas season by my art-star client, “You are such a fucking-little-maker!” Which may not be Latin, but I heard as, “you are following the directive to create as Our Father laid upon our hearts” Yup, making pom-poms out of yarn and Spanish paper-flowers, okay lying about that last bit, but yes with the funness.
So wow, all over my cartographer’s delineated heart with that post, but let’s hope I am more with the love less with the asshole in the coming year, let’s hope I can let go of the trauma. Let’s all pray that I become a more loving person with still enough discretion and judgment to avoid predators.
I am going to end this with the best Christmas gift evah, a song by sweet Linda and sweet Liz, “Santa Baby”
“Trim My Tree With Some Legislation That Is REALLY CLEAN” brill.
Love.Love.Love!
Also, if you are an adoptive parent or a natural parent and you are not aggressively working for your child’s equality as a class of person, ask yourself how you can sleep at night? Don’t ask yourself how you can write a book about the adoption experience, how you can write about how adoptees feel. Ask yourself why you are not fostering the well-being of the children you claim to love.
That looks like a really bad ouchie my sweetie pie.
Awesome video, thanks for sharing!
xoxo