Christmas Cheer, Christmas Calamity, and Christmas Callousness

Babe, I'm just writing that for the title ;)

Today was a getting the turkey day. Of course, in Britain, as in everywhere else (as sure I am in my self-contained world) turkey is v. important. Brits eat 10 million turkeys during the Christmas season. There are guaranteed cat fights over the last Turkey in Tesco every year.

It started last night, when at 11:30pm, me and Dad left for Tesco. This was a good, but hilarious move for although it was better, it was only more slightly bearable than usual. Somehow we spent £126 on total crap such as chocolate and yoghurts and loads of good good cheese. I have to say though, that even at midnight in the corporate oasis you have crazy people, half asleep meglomaniacs or just poor alpha males whining "baby, I just want to go sleeeeeep! Sleeeeep!". I'm afraid to say that shopping, especially christmas shopping is a woman's and this is from experiences of a 10 year old girl writing the lists, signing the cards and begging the bro to wrap everything and getting none of the credit. We even had some mad woman nick our mince pies when our backs were turned! We finished putting everything away at 1am - to bed with me...

I couldn't stop thinking about eating. I hadn't really been eating properly since I realised I was losing weight. I'm not anorexic - I just don't want/deserve to eat until I fit into that shows off my flat stomach...but each and every year, for once in a blue moon (they come round once a year, right?) there is chocolate! and biscuits! and too much ice cream in the house! Red fucking alert, I mean the stomach's coming back with a vengeance. But no, so far I've been good, maybe I'll actually lose weight over the holidays...

That communist (nice ghosts that don't solidify) idea flew outta the window when I saw the turkey we bought. It totally fleeced us as nearly a cost of £60, and this was 28 pounds of turkey madness. I couldn't lift the damn thing, and I gotta help grandma make the stuffing for it tomorrow. Crazy drivers doing u-turns in a busy high street (Dad), rushing around with massive bags of rice, planning what to cook for my Boxing day dessert, I have a nice thin sheen of a headache now. Lovely.

But you gotta love Christmas! I just can't wait to see my family, and have some good good food with you know, good good people. I really shouldn't like, dislike hating christmas so much. I'm going off to write some good poetry and I'm never using the word 'good' again.
There.