A Xmas Message

 

Hi.

Merry Christmas and all that. I like Christmas. It means different things to different people. To some, a religious festival I think it’d be sacrilege to suggest otherwise (‘er, yes, Joe, darling, it was an angel …’ said The Virgin Mary.)

To others, like me – it’s a celebration of winter, and times gone by. I believe that now – and I’ll tread carefully around this (sorry ‘m a wheelchair user, wheel … skirt?) but in a UK where we have … people who own all night shops and money laundering barbers, and park on the pavement. ( NB To not come across as a Daily Mail writer my gran is Jamaican – and for the sake of argument had a job and didn’t sit watching Real Housewives of New Jersey yet somehow can’t say ‘hello, how are you?’)

For new readers, I’m not normally this political but, hear me out. Christmas has lost it’s religious meaning. (Look ‘pon Mariah, would she be allowed in for Midnight Mass like that?)

I’d say Christmas is a time for family. For some that’s a grannie who hates everything, for others, it’s a big fallout where it makes what’s going on overseas look like CBeebies. For some, it’s a college or school.

Right now, for me, it’s both. I lost a friend fairly recently, which is a sh (teachers read this) time for all my friends, me especially – I wasn’t his best – but I was his first. My friends are my family. As are both colleges I attend.

In one I had a disco. My god it was fun. I love a boogie. It was proper to. Macarena (where everyone ends up facing a different direction) and proper DJ’s who rose the roof.

In the other, there’s a goth guy, for whom I harbour a not so secret crush, who I’ve bought a present for. I’ll let you know what he thought.

And to me, that’s Christmas. Family.

Bye.