There’s no place like home for the holidays…really, no place.  The warmth and familiarity of your old family home, the smell of cookies baking in the oven, the constant questioning of Great Aunt Irene, and the ever fun challenge of fitting into your old single bed that’s occupying a corner of your once-childhood-bedroom-turned-office.  It’s fun, it’s stressful, it’s exciting, it’s the most wonderful time of the year, and here are a few tips to help you make it through it.

Keep Up Appearances | Sure, this may sound like shallow advice, but you are going to be seeing people you only see once a year: cousins, neighbors, that one cute guy you had a crush on in high school (who still hasn’t left town), and you want to look your best.  Show them that all that you can take care of yourself: that you can afford that Super Cuts haircut, can pick out cute outfits without your Mom’s guidance, and even know how to apply eyeliner.  Because you know they’re going to notice these things…

Socialize (With an Escape Plan) | Practice your spiel. People are going to be asking you what you’re doing, what your plans are, why you’re not married, when you’re getting married, when you’re going back to school, when you’re going to find a “real” job,  etc. So either have all your answers down pat, or…make something up.  Either way is fine, as long as your confident and convincing!  ”Well Aunt Mary, I’m only working at this coffee shop until my lawyer-doctor-humanitarian fiance, Michael, finishes his Ph.D. and then we’re moving to Boston where I’ll study philosophy at the University of Massachusetts on a full-ride scholarship.”

And if that doesn’t work, divert attention to your more successful/less successful cousin: “Why would we talk about me when Stacy just got into law school?!  Tell us about it, Stace!” OR “Speaking of bar exams, didn’t Jason get arrested at the bar last week? How’s his trial shaping up?”

Be a Little Weird | People are going to be talking about you anyway so why not live it up?  Smoke a candy-cane like a cigarette (even though smoking kills. Keep it real, kids) or laughing like Santa Clause (loud, and ho-ho-ho’ey) at least once a day.  It’ll make you smile if nothing else.

Settle Into the Nest | Going home often means becoming 12 years old again.  Big brother Ned might try to put you in a headlock; Dad might enforce a curfew; and Grandma might make you eat more vegetables.  But embrace it, because being 12 again means that Mom might just do your laundry!

Buy Into It | Sure it’s Christmas, but who doesn’t love a little cheer (even if it is in the ironic sense – I’m looking at you Holiday Hipsters)?  So sing the carols, tear up at the cheesy commercials, decorate, say Happy Holidays, bake cookies, and wear an ugly Christmas sweater proudly.  It is Christmas, after all.

Don’t Forget to Stay Hydrated | Christmas cocktails. Drink them. Enjoy them. Enough said.

Image Source: Family Photo

I know that nobody remembers Thanksgiving by now, since most lapsed it in a haze of abnormally high levels of tryptophan, wine or other beverages, and post-familial get-together repression.  Plus, the fact that the day right after Thanksgiving is the universal cue to start blasting Christmas music everywhere and fill aisle after aisle with cheaply-assembled, prepackaged, and entirely thoughtless gift sets isn’t helping to keep this day’s memory from further blurriness.  Full bellies empty and all is sensually eclipsed by pine tree sap, twinkly lights, and yuletide “merriment”.

My 2012 Thanksgiving is hazy, not because of schnapps or spiked eggnog, not from my third helping of gravy-soaked bird flesh, but from the fact that the entire day sort of blended in with the other five days I spent in the hospital.  My father had heart surgery and, to add to the suspense, had a complication with his lungs, which resulted in an unexpectedly longer stay.

I’m still processing a lot of information from that time – which is part of the reason it has taken me forever to post – but I can share a few of my observations.  At least those that have stood the test of time and hindsight.  That makes them debatably less valid than those caught in the moment, in the middle of the trenches or the hospital ward; seriously, though, do you expect a girl trying to support her nervous  mother on top of her own scared self to whip out a notebook and start writing lengthy diary entries and shit?  Gimme a break.

So here’s some (often upsetting) observations or lessons learned:

Don’t fucking smoke – My Dad was on the respirator for longer than expected because his lungs did not recover as quickly as expected/typical.  We kept being asked if he smoked, as it was common for smokers (even past and infrequent smokers) to stay on the respirator (and, thus, in the ICU with A TUBE DOWN THEIR THROATS) for extended periods of time.

Seriously, if you are just starting to smoke: STOP.  WHAT THE F- ARE YOU CRAZY OR JUST TOTALLY GODDAMN STUPID?  The next time I see any of you start picking up the habit, I will slap your face in a downward motion starting at your forehead and make you look like Curly from the Three Stooges. I don’t care if I burn my hand on your cigarette in the process of slapping you.  Nobody who sees this will ever sleep with you because you’ll look stupid as shit and the memory of you being owned in such a slapsticky and punk-ass manner will be indelibly in their memories.  I might just film it and put it on YouTube to extend the range of decreased sexual interest.  You’ll thank me when you don’t have long and miserable hospital stays or lung/throat/mouth/everything cancer and manage to keep your breath and bodily fluids from smelling or tasting like death.  And, yes, I’m referring to spunk.

“Hey, baby, I taste terrible.  Wanna get a – where are you going?”

I am fucking angry – The pretty unrelenting monologue happening in my head almost the entire time (mainly after I knew my father’s heart and lungs were finally working reasonably well and he was in the clear) was, “I can’t believe I’m 21 and I’m having parents that are already having these surgeries/health scares/hospital visits.”  And before you accuse me of being the most self-centered person on Earth, I’m truly speaking from the angle that, for God’s sake, they’re too young to be having this happen and I’m too young to be close to losing a parent.  And just like CGI Yoda said in that terrible Star Wars movie, that fear leads to anger, how DARE they not maintain themselves better and, in the case of my father, not pursue or cooperate with any preventative medical care. I knew I was going to be warming the seats of a surgery waiting room someday, but not this young.

Bringing me closer to She-Hulk levels of wrath was that my father refused to heed doctors’ and nurses’ instructions just AFTER his surgery – even though he was in great pain and had disturbing tubes pumping fluid into and out of him.  Like, holes in his torso and sides.  And flaunting that you were not only not listening to trained medical staff but also ignoring the advice of your own family, well, that makes visions of sugarplums STRANGLING you in my head as it just increases the entire group’s risk of having to stay longer in the hospital from another complication.  Which leads me to my next observation…

Your family is like a Timex watch – We take a licking.  We keep on ticking.  But it doesn’t mean that the abuse isn’t going to severely scratch or dent up the watch.  Just because you are lucky enough to have people who love you unconditionally doesn’t mean you’re allowed to test this with pain and callousness.  If you are endowed with a person or family who loves you relentlessly, don’t be a dick to them.  There’s a special place in hell for you if you are one.

My older sibling won’t be around to help with my aging parents – Though I’ve always feared and known this, I didn’t, like, KNOW it until I was the only one showing up (a three hour flight, btw) to support both of my equally frazzled and scared parents through the prep, surgery, and part of the recovery of my father.  My sibling was nowhere to be found the entire time.  I suppose this is a valuable lesson, even if it ices my heart.

Provided I’m not forced to do a lot of chopping or am under time-pressure, I am a damn good cook – With some help from my mom and the instructions of my recovering dad, I made a pretty delicious rain-check Thanksgiving dinner.

In the end, I did have a lot to be thankful for: both of my parents are alive (for now).  But how many “vacations” will I spend in hospital waiting rooms before I’m 30?  When will bitter ejaculate be mentioned in anti-smoking PSAs?

Featured Image, Image cred

Band: Horse Feathers (check them out here!)
Date: Wednesday, December 12th @ 8pm
Location: The Independent in San Francisco
Price: $13 In advance / $15 at the door (the latter might not guarantee a ticket though)

I have seen Horse Feathers twice so far and I can confidently say that they are a gem among the likes of indie folk bands. Yes, full of emotion but also wonderful. The Oregon-based band is headed by Justin Ringle and vocally accompanied by the whole band - Nathan Crockett, Dustin Dybvig, Lauren Vidal, and Angie Kuzma - four incredibly talented percussion, string, and pretty much every-type-of-instrument players. I’m not much of a fan of twang in my music, but they balance their folky style with great additions like the saw mixed with deep tones from the cello and upbeat tambourine runs. Think Damien Rice meets Bon Iver meets the recently popularized Lumineers.

I first saw Horse Feathers at a small restaurant/bar called The Crepe Place in Santa Cruz, CA, which they frequent at least twice a year (if you are unable to see their show this month, definitely look for them in Santa Cruz). Not only did I find their music enchanting, they also seemed like really humble people. A charming crew of five! I think it might be an Oregon music thing or something. Both times I saw them their opening bands were great, I especially thought their tour with Y La Bamba was a double whammy of awesome music. I highly recommend seeing them live, and even coming early to check out their opening act. Seeing this group makes for a really great mellow and fun evening out on the town.

If you’re coming into San Francisco and would like a recommendation for dinner near the venue that night, some tasty places include: The Little Chihuahua, Little Star Pizza, and Nopa, if you’re willing to wait 8 years for a table.

See you at the show!

P.S. I should probably introduce myself. Hi! My name is Orlie. I’m an SF based artist and designer who fancies good small venue concerts, cats, tasty treats, and the perfect brew of coffee. Check back for my posts on local art, music, and doodles from the everyday life of a beginner!

Image Sources: Featured Image, Post Image