I am gonna blog tonight, but only till my download is complete. So odds are, it’s not going to be 1000 words. Because I got work to do.

But a thing happened yesterday that I feel the need to capture in words in this space.

It started with the BCSFA dinner/FRED/BCSFA meeting last night. It was planned for the usual place (ABC County Kitchen in Richmond) at the usual time (6 pm) on the usual day (every other Sunday) and the only difference is that this was Xmas-y.

The trouble started when the time came to leave. I got dressed up in my winter armor (jacket, toque, gloves, scarf from Mom that makes me feel all warm inside) and came out of my room, assuming that my roomies would be ready as well. But they were not. They had, in fact, completely forgotten that this dinner started at 6 pm and hence there had not even started to get ready.

So there I am, impatiently waiting for them to get their shit together, silently fuming.

Then we got to the dinner, and lo and behold, there’s a bunch of people who didn’t bother to RSVP. I made the reservation for 9 people and 12 showed up.

This has been a sticking point for me for a while now. How hard is it to post “I’m coming!” on Facebook? But apparently, some people are positively allergic to commitment and therefore cannot possibly bring themselves to warn people of their arrival.

You’ll know they are showing up when they show up. Period.

And this bugs the hell out of me. I can’t relate to that at all. I have no problem deciding I am going to do something then doing it. I don’t get what the issue is.

So I was kind of snippy to people about not RSVPing for the thing, and if I had been fuming before I was steaming now.

Then it suddenly it hit me : I WAS TURNING INTO MY FATHER.

I was letting my grouchiness cast a shill over what should have been a warm and relaxed event, and all over little things that don’t matter at all in the long run.

So my roomies weren’t ready when I thought they should be ready. So what? All that resulted was in us being *gasp* five minutes late. That’s not much of a tragedy. Certainly nothing worth polluting the Xmas vibe over.

I am a big believer in vibes, especially warm and accepting ones.

And so extra people showed up. The restaurant was perfectly capable of handing the extra people. They just added a table. Simplicity itself.

So what the hell was I so mad about?

This was definitely not the sort of person I want to be. Someone like my Dad, who ruins everything with his glowering rage. Someone people become afraid of because they never know what mood I will be in and therefore which version of me I will be. Someone who gets wound up over trivial things that don’t matter because I interpret them as some kind of personal slight that means people don’t respect me.

God help me, I do not want to be that person.

And I know that part of the problem is that I don’t know how to express anger and frustration in a positive, constructive way. So it builds up in me like volcanic pressure and then it only takes the slightest of things to set the whole thing off.

Because I know, deep down, that my anger last night was not about what it seemed to be about. Those little glitches were merely the pebble that started the avalanche. I have an enormous reservoir of deep, deep rage and pain inside me.

Raw id – steam pressure.

And that is simply unacceptable. My father had to put up with a lot of bullshit at work due to bosses that frankly did not deserve him, and that plus his own issues from a nightmarish childhood turned into the rage monster we loathed and feared as a child.

And I vowed never to be like him. And I will keep that vow even if it kills me.

I want to be the cool guy who rolls with the punches and doesn’t sweat the small stuff because it doesn’t matter in the long run and, as I said to my father many times, a man is only as tall as that which he lets bother him.

I seek greatness of spirit, not pettiness of the soul.

So last night was a crossroads, a chance for me to realized that I was on the wrong path and get back onto the right one.

I am going to be Christmas-y, god dammit, no matter what.

Wish me luck!

Oh, and Happy Holidays to everyone!