What Can I Say?

Right now I don't have anything I want to blog about. I'm just at work and I'm REALLY BORED. I'm done with everything that needs to be done. As a result, I've decided to take all of tomorrow off instead of part of it. I WANT TO LEAVE. But there is one responsibility I have that involves emails that come through at random times so I'm not leaving yet. And besides, I really should stay as long as possible to get hours and use less of my dwindling vacation time. I mean, I could go into something serious I guess...things I've thought about going into just to get them out. I did post a serious blog or two on here about stuff that happened when I was younger. And I guess Christmas reminds me of those times, which is unfortunate, because shouldn't someone just enjoy Christmas? And it's not that I dislike the holiday. But I feel as though I never got to enjoy it the way a child should...
And of course it relates back to my father. The morning of Christmas Eve was always filled with nervous anticipation because of him. Christmas Eve was a tradition of going to my grandma and grandpa's (Mom's mom and stepdad) for dinner and present-opening. My father always 'hated" going and used the excuse "they didn't like him" and blah blah blah. In front of his little kid, me, mind you. And so he would put off getting ready, take way too long in the bathroom, etc, and we would always be at least two hours late. Two hours late! And that was after a huge struggle to even get there. And then the grandparents and the rest of my mom's family were always completely nice to him. I do always remember getting tons of presents from my grandparents, which was awesome. :) *sigh* But it was awful getting there, and I was always afraid this one relative would piss him off once we got there. Most of the relatives catered to my dad's asshole personality, but not all. Then of course after we left in the evenings, we never went home immediately. My father was a regular pot smoker and probably still is, and my mother actually was too until I was around five. He'd end up taking us to some friends place and I'd be up with them all night and not get to sleep until some awful hour. So then I wouldn't wake up until noon or something to have "Christmas morning". Isn't a kid supposed to pop out of bed at 6am and not be able to stand it anymore? And I don't think he was there for me opening my presents; that part I'm not sure of though...
And then Christmas Day...my other grandparents' house is where we'd go (his parents). The place would generally be crowded...he has four sisters and a brother...I have a lot of cousins on that side. That day would be filled with nervous anticipation as well because someone would ALWAYS get in a fight. Be it a pair of his sisters, or my father and my grandpa, it was always someone. So that always made Christmas merry, believe me. And it was a small house in a cold area so there certainly wasn't anywhere to escape to. At this point I don't remember at all what anyone fought about...stupid petty things I'm sure. I just remember feeling upset and nervous. I honestly don't think I cried though, although knowing the person I am today I'm surprised I didn't. I generally cry when upset...maybe that has developed with age. I think crying would've made it worse and I knew that, but I really don't remember. It's strange I don't remember many of the details but just how I felt in general...did I forget them on purpose or were they trivial? I do have a bad memory...or maybe I was just too young...