My Christmas message – this is not a blog post so be ready to read on….

Initially, I was little bit skeptical about the Christmas, but not because it was the first time I would spend it away from my permanent address at my parents which I do not consider identical with the notion of home. Therefore the Christmas knocking at the door were barking up the wrong one at my place. At some moments, I was even thinking of shooting the Santa in the very moment he will be dancing Gagnam Style under the Christmas tree. If we had some, though. We have a cactus instead.

The song goes that ‘Christmas comes just once a year’, but does it necessarily have to be in October, right after we recover from the Halloween Hangover? We share our ill-advised cocktail with the toilette, remember the name of the fighter pilot we told the girl whose body curves are still palpable under the cover of our bed, clean the room with the help of the guy whom no one actually invited to the party. All this, together with the catchy delivery of George Michael from the radio, is the unofficial jingle bell for another Xmas season.

Luckily, the Christmas Eve is ordinary working day in the UK. Therefore I was glad to be on the schedule at my work, and in this way avoided part of the boredom. But at the end of the day, the Christmas Eve did not turn out bad. I got a phone call from my best friend from the secondary school and in the evening we and my mates from the house went to a pub. After few drinks we left the boring first local and started to look for something else. Everything was closed so we ended up in the pub on the corner that witnessed the foundation of Iron Maiden. There was a bar singer and she gave the best ever live version of Alanis Morissette’s “Ironic”. Pity she was not about 15 years younger (or me bit more drunk). So we listened to the music and went back home to finish the party there.

Back in Slovakia I would probably fall into the general stereotype. People feed themselves upon the fish and other stuff. I do not care much about the food. Thanks god there still are some traditional remote villages covered in snow where the Christmas folklore lives one. But in big cities in Slovakia hardly anyone remembers what is the original purpose of the particular foods. I like to eat the "opekance" on the picture above. Here in London I was thinking about buying some caked or sweet bakery. Discouraged by the loads of people in the supermarket, I concluded that the same effect can be achieved by a toast and marmalade.

Next, we would share the gifts. Nothing bad in that, but my excitement about gifts faded away few years ago, maybe reinforced by the hockey stick with opposite curvature – a mistake of the Santa. I do not understand the people in the greedy rush after goods in the stores, because everyone knows that the things will be available much cheaper in sales. But patience is a virtue. After gift giving, people chill out in front of the TV and surrender to consume. They would eat so many cakes and sweets that will result in stomach ache. The best friend of patience is the moderation.

Some would go to church, but going to the church at Christmas is far from being religious. Actually, the churches are full of the festive churchgoers that go there only to tick their ‘once a year’ and boast about the gifts. Anyway, the Christmas mass is nice, with all the trees decorated, the choir singing and snow. For me, the message of Christmas is ranked above all of the mentioned. I look forward the nice atmosphere, meeting friends some of them I see only once a year and maybe playing ice hockey on the frozen lake (I rather choose my stick myself since). The intention should grow organically; it can not be enforced by TV commercials. Once, I would like enjoy Christmas in a remote village in the mountains.

     After all, spending the Christmas Eve in Hard Rock pub listening to a singer in skin-tight legins, chatting up the guests with her covers of famous rock songs is not the best way. Neither are all the treats mentioned above, but they all contribute to the festive atmosphere I got used to. Pictures might wash out, but memories not. On the other hand, I opted out of the traditional stereotype of consume and experienced something I enjoy. Ironic that I had to go to one of the centres of mainstream in order to experience the original  rain on the Xmas day.