Christmas Eve

I had plans to attend Christmas mass tonight from seven to nine. Of course, I had already told a lot of my students that I would be going. And, being that it is a particular meeting, I saw it as the best oppurtunity, in my few remaining weeks to maybe smile or look happy or something. I guess it was one of the few things in the history of this train-wreck that I've been looking forward to. Well...

I got a call at 3; it was my translator. She said "You will have a Christmas Dinner today at 5:30." I said "Ok," and hung up the phone. They sucker-punch you with social events over here. By the time you think of the logistics of doing such things, its to late to rescind the invitation. And as I've stated earlier in the year, it's almost impossible to tell someone "No," once they have you on the phone. In fact, it's an insult to turn down an invitation to anything, even though they give you ten minutes warning, even though you've told them weeks before you have plans, even though you don't want to go, etc. And when the invitation is coming from the people that could make your life a living heck if they wanted too, well...

I will miss mass. There is no way I can make it now. Chinese dinners average three or four hours (don't ask me how). I should probably beginning my answers to the plethora of inevitable Christmas questions I will have to answer a dozen times: "What do you do on Christmas?" Do you celebrate Christmas with your family?" "What do Americans do on Christmas?" "If Christmas left San Diego on a train heading in an easterdly direction traveling 95 kph and Thanksgiving left Denver on a train in an westernadly direction travelling 35 kph and the distance between the two Holidays is 2,000 km, and both left at 14:15 Beijing Standard Time, at what time in the American Eastern time zone with the two intersect?" (man I wish).

It's Christmas eve and I'm bummed beyond belief, but I am going to do my best to keep this post from following the standard theme of "Look how much Jonathan hates certain life decisions!" That mentality is becoming cliche on this thing, and I'm running out of ways to express it. OH THAT THIS TOO SOLID FLESH WOULD MELT, THAW, AND RESOLVE ITSELF INTO A DEW! OR THAT THE EVERLASTING HAD NOT FIX'D HIS CANON 'GAINST SELF-SLAUGHTER! (that's Hamlet). Maybe I'll try a picture:

(I don't like the picture either. Merry Christmas).

"I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens."