Christmas on glue

So, kind of like I finally had the birthday that my 21st should have been when I turned 25 and had 2 women make out with me at the same time while being serenaded by a blues singer in white vinyl shoes and a captain's hat, I'm having the kind of holiday season I would have liked when I was 17. I managed to avoid any sort of shopping or even thinking about Christmas until this weekend when I bought nearly all my presents online. After a fantastic, civilized round of Trivial Pursuit with some of the Baltimore blogosphere entirely free from Christmas decorations except for a Charlie Brown style pine branch, I ran for my life (from the suburbs, not the bloggers) back to the city. I went down to a holiday party featuring the first Christmas pageant I've ever watched in a basement. Ostensibly, it was based on "A Christmas Carol" featuring a cowboy Ghost of Christmas past, a talking bear ghost of Christmas present and a cross-dressing ghost of Christmas future. Best of all there was caroling in between scenes. Now good caroling is always about audience participation, but in this case it meant the basement turning into a giant mosh pit of which, appropriately, Scrooge and Tiny Tim (both women) were usually at the bottom, often on top of each other. I also found that "For Whom the Bell Tolls" by Metallica makes a surprisingly poignant holiday song.
Sunday, I ended up at the mall, but I only bought things for myself.
Monday, I went to the open practice for the Charm City Roller Girls to see my friend Emily skate. I felt like a parent watching their kids play soccer, only a lot of the "kids" had tattoos and the "parent" next to me had a nose ring. The follow-up party was at the Mojo Room. There was a food spread that as holiday buffets should, consisted almost entirely of cookies and dessert, and the only protein was the bacon on some bean salad and a couple small containers of bean dip. I wasn't the only one on a sugar high, becuase even though there were only about a dozen people left at the party, two roller girls kicked a skate-shaped pinata to death on the floor, showering glitter and chocolate eyeballs everywhere. Glitter is insidious, so I came to the executive board meeting at work today looking like I'd made out with Cyndi Lauper the night before.
The punk rock holiday won't be over until Friday when I go to the Trixie Little Holiday Spectacular at the Ottobar and see how Trixie Little saves Christmas, probably somehow by taking off all her clothes.
As I said to Emily last night, I think I'm putting the "Jesus H. Christ!" back into Christmas this year.