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A Hopeless Romantic Christmas Carol (sort of, but not really).}
Tuesday, December 21, 2010 | 7:42 PM | 0Comment

Internet, tell me. When you're faced with a tough situation during the holidays, what do you do?

I'll delve into that in a second, but first: finals.
I tend to go a bit crazy with studying during semester-end finals. And by crazy, I mean borderline reclusive/studying through meals/even sacrificing sleep if I have to, crazy. And this time was no different.
Buuuut, I nailed all of my tests, so it was worth it. And all of that resulted in me pretty much collapsing the whole weekend in relief and exhaustion.

So, after my weekend of recovering/reestablishing communication with the outside world, me and Mom really got to start all our Christmas stuff (including watching cheesy overplayed made-for-TV Christmas specials and making Christmas candy and cookies and me licking the bowl clean of leftover cookie dough. So unhealthy, so good.) And it's been super awesome and fun so far.

But. Then came tonight.

After decorating said cookies, which we made yesterday, and after watching one of the many TV-movie versions of A Christmas Carol, my dad and my grandma (meaning his mom, and she lives with us) started walking back and forth between the garage and the basement, and they were talking in low voices. They seemed to be concerned about something, and I wondered what it was, but me and mom decided not to ask just yet.

Then, dad finally came in and sat down with his super-worried/dreading our reactions face on. Now I was was dreading what it was. And then he came out and told us: My cousin Porscha was going to be our house guest until after Christmas.

Let me give you some important background information on Porscha, Internet. (Let me warn you, this is long and very complicated. Stay with me here.)

Porscha is pretty much the black sheep of my dad's side of the family. Now let me explain why. Porscha is not related to me by blood. She, and her brother, were adopted by my grandmother when they were six years old, from a foster home.
Porscha gave birth to her first child, my 8 year old cousin Nikki*, when she was 17 years old. My age now. And after Porscha birthed Nikki, she predictably dropped out of High School. Big surprise there, right? But after dropping out, my grandmother (or in this case, her adoptive mother) decided to help her take care of baby Nikki so that Porscha could go back and finish High School so she could make something of her life for her child.

And this was amazing of my grandmother. Completely awesome. Except for Porscha never went back to school, and to date, the longest she's kept a job was 6 months (not because she gets fired. Oh no. She quits because they're 'too hard'. We're talking jobs at department stores, waitress jobs, not rocket science. Not to mention all the training schools for jobs that she quit early, including beautician school and dental assistant school.) And my grandma kept taking care of Nikki, with the occasional visit to her real mom, but my grandma is pretty much her mother.

Porscha was never ever there for Nikki. Never took her to school, never took care of her when she was sick, never held her when she had her night terrors and she woke up crying.
And 8 years and 2 more kids later, it's still the same. All of her kids are from different fathers.

Over the years since she dropped out of High School, she's gotten arrested for stealing at least 5 times, done every drug you can think of, been a stripper--and I'm not sure we've officially confirmed this, but she's also possibly been a prostitute--, been in 3 abusive relationships, including one where the dude broke her jaw and she had to have it wired shut, and she's had to stay at grandma's house (before grandma moved in with us) because she couldn't pay her utilities/had a bad hangover/had to hide from somebody. She's pretty much the poster girl for high school dropouts.
Her other two kids are two and 6 months old, and the first time the 6 month old ever came to our house so grandma could watch him was a week after he was born. One week old and his mother handed him over to grandma. He and the two year old stay at our house for 1-2 weeks at a time, and usually after a week, they're back here again. They're here so often that we keep toddler toys/a baby bed and highchair for when they're here.

And so. This 25 year old woman, this person whom I refuse to even call my cousin, is going to live in our house until after xmas--possibly New Year's. Why? Because she's having her life threatened(she gets in fights a lot), and the police don't want her and 'her kids' staying at her house. She doesn't have friends she can stay with, and she doesn't have money, so she can't stay in a hotel, so she has to stay here.

I had even had a conversation about Porscha earlier today with my dad. It all had to do with the fact that I lost my respect for her a long, long time ago and I absolutely hate what she's doing to 'her kids'. I love my baby cousins with all of my heart, and whenever I think about how they had to be born to such a horrible predicament, to such a distant and irresponsible mother, it makes me want to cry. I hate it.

And so when I heard this news, I reacted a lot stronger than I thought I would. My heart sped up and I was shaking. My first response was, "No. I don't want her here."
All I could think about was how much I hate her, and how this was supposed to be our Christmas and just ours, and she was going to come in and ruin it all.

I'm one of those sentimental folks that has Christmas up on this sort of pedestal. Christmas magic, Christmas miracles, Christmas spirit. I'm also guilty of thinking those pedestal-type thoughts, like, 'Nothing bad can happen! It's Christmas! It'll be perfect! Rudolph always guides Santa's sleigh, Frosty always returns, every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings!' And being an only child, I'm so used to quiet, private Christmases.

And all this is what immediately leads me to think this way. Porscha couldn't barge into our xmas. Christmas is for family, and she's not family. Christmas is about happiness, and she would ruin mine. And I continued my bratty temper tantrum and had a fit of frustrated crying, saying, "I don't want her here!" and "Why can't she stay somewhere else?" even though I knew exactly why.

Then ten minutes later, when I calmed down some, I decided to text Rosie and complain more. Best Friend Rose has heard plenty of Porscha rants from me, but even this rant of mine surprised her. In one part of a text, she said, "I don't think you hate her, you just hate everything she's done. Sure she's a disappointment, but she's still family. She just barged in on your family's time, but no one deserves to be alone or at a hotel on Christmas." And it was so true that I sat and read it 6 times through.

I knew that I was being super high maintenance and bratty and selfish. I just couldn't get past the big fat flashing sign that said INTRUDER in my head. I couldn't get past all the crap she's done, and how she's the one person on this Earth that I judge with such scorn (okay, and maybe Phil too).

But maybe this is my own personal Christmas special. Maybe this is my chance at having true Christmas spirit: giving to others. Even if I don't particularly like it. Even if I don't particularly like them, especially if they're family.

This isn't about me. There's more going on in the bigger picture. My cousin is virtually homeless right now, and she has nowhere else to go. In reality, no one deserves that, especially during Christmas time. She needs a home right now, and we're going to share ours.

So, this sure won't be easy. But I'm a big girl, and I need to suck it up and be mature about it.

And just because this xmas won't be like we planned, it doesn't mean it'll suck. Maybe it could turn out even better this year.

xo Hopeless Romantic

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