  Christmas has become a really tough time of the year for me.  My parents put an end to the mystery of Santa Clause when I was quite young.  My fifth Christmas promised to be the best one I could remember ( when you're five im not sure you actually compare holidays much but hey this is my story so ill tell it like I want to)  Me and my dad spent Christmas eve putting together my shiny pink and purple HOFFY bike-  training wheels and all-
 the exact one I wanted and it seemed like all my holiday wishes were coming true-  WHO ONLY KNOWS WHAT SANTA WOULD BE BRINGING TO ADD TO MY FESTIVE JOYS.  I could barely sleep that night-  thoughts were racing through my head-  did I place the milk and cookies where Santa could see them-  would the milk spoil-
 maybe I should have just had mom write a note saying where the milk is kept in the fridge.  will Santa get dysentery and stiff me on a gift next year ( okay this seems far fetched,  ill admit to it before you accuse me-  but hey,  I was a sharp little cracker at that age-
 Ill remind you that this was the pre- drug phase of my life-  although not by much)  Somehow I made it through the night of anticipation without giving myself a panic attack ( these would plaque my undergrad experience)  and emerged from my bedroom Christmas day with hope and joy overflowing from my very being.
 Thoughts of THE TREE and THE PRESENTS hit me and before I knew it I was running down the hallway smiling ear to ear.  Everyone else was awake-  the bastards were starting without me.  I started unwrapping my presents-  tissue paper and wrapper flying around my face as I speed through the predictable family gifts-  WHERE WAS SANTAS PRESENT?
 I turned to the bike-  eager to ride it-  but still confused about the lack of Santa gifts.  what was going on-  had Santas milk gone bad like id feared-  was his punishment starting this year instead of the next-
 ARGHHH it was too much for my already neurotic little brain to take!  My mom took the card off the bike and began to read.  By the end of the last line my stomach was on the floor.  It was a present from Santa.  Apparently there had been a lack of communication between my parents and my mom didn't know I had helped put the bike together.  At the time I just thought Santa was a cheap bastard who was trying to pawn off my parents presents as his own,
 but later in the day my older brothers would explain what had happened to me.  We didn't celebrate Christmas much after that.  Im sure by the time I was 10 we stopped even having a tree.  I was ashamed that my family had no Christmas spirit and to this day I still hold a grudge about it.  When I have my own family,  Christmas will be a huge event.
 For now I continue to make up for my lack of Christmas with amazing new years eves and halloweens-  the two holidays you dont need your family to celebrate.  I expect boys I date to make a big deal of valentines day and my birthday-  when they dont,  feelings I have towards my family and the holidays emerge and I displace those feelings towards my then bo.  6 of the last seven Christmas' have a story.
 One of shacking up with an ex- boyfriend in an empty house in London.  Two others of laying in a bed in the middle of BFE Scotland with the first boy who ever made me feel 100%  adored.  One of trying to get back to the US while the trains were all down in England to get to my father who had had an emergency triple bypass ( the event that made me go to medical school in the first place)
 and breaking up with said boy who adored me in the process.  The next of being in Paris with my best friend and Swedish rockstar boyfriend-  on our way to Amsterdam where I intended to have my first girl- on- girl experience/  first paid-
sex- act experience ( which never actually happened)  One uneventful Christmas ( im sure im just blocking whatever did happen out)  and the last one-
 where I realized the boy I had been going out with for the last year didn't really love me,  or did but didn't know it.  It was ironic because he was the first boy i had ever 100%  adored and the experience ended up setting off a string of events that would leave me spending Christmas in south beach at a gay bar on a double date with three other straight people-  enjoying the night immensely.  This Christmas seeing as I have no plans to leave the country (
those seem to be the only Christmas' that work out for me)  ill take extra shifts in the ER or pediatric ward.  Maybe I can help make someone else's Christmas a bit more tolerable.
