Light Up

It was not too very far from 1 a.m. before I got to bed last night, if I am remembering correctly. But I slept reasonably well, rising when my 7 a.m. cellphone alarm chimed.

I went downstairs and set my Christmas gift for my youngest stepson on his computer desk in the den area; and I did the same for my younger brother, but on his favourite lounging chair in the living room.

I never managed to get anything for Bev.

If my eldest stepson shows up today, I have something for him.

My brother emerged from his bedroom towards 8:30 a.m., I would say. I waited until a little past 9 a.m. before joining him, finding a 1.75-litre plastic bottle of Lamb's Dark Navy Rum (40% alcohol) and a lottery scratch ticket gift pack awaiting me. I had left him two different brands of Scotch in 750-ml glass bottles as my gift to him.

I had to suffer through until maybe 9:40 a.m. the news programme he had playing on T.V. ─ maybe it was even 9:50 a.m. ─ before he finally invited me to start operation of our Android TV Box. I had been thinking that he had an NFL game lined up for 10 a.m., and I was all set to betake myself back to my bedroom if so.

So I tuned in a 48-minute (48:49) video uploaded yesterday to YouTube's Redacted channel: LED lights are DEVASTATING our bodies, here's why | Redacted w Clayton Morris.

LED lights are devastating. Devastating to our health. Those aren't my words. Those are the words of our next guest. Which I'll introduce here in a second. But think about how much our lives have changed over the last few decades. Think about now when you go to sleep at night, all of those little LED lights that are surrounding you while you sleep

Clayton's guest was Mark Baker. I don't know why his much longer video description does not make that identification.

Next I ventured to my brother if he was up to watching a light-hearted Christmas movie, and at his okay I tuned in 2019's Noelle.

It was absolutely charming, but I have yet to finish watching it. With at least 40 minutes to go, my brother announced that he was returning to his bedroom for further bed rest. To that point I had enjoyed a couple of well-spiked mugs of hot coffee that I definitely feeling.

I decided that I might as well have my nap, since I would be eating nothing until the turkey feast my brother and Bev were to be preparing had been all cooked up.

By the way, my youngest stepson rose fairly soon after my brother and I had gotten together this morning. It seems that his girlfriend was coming to take him away ─ probably for dinner at her folks' place where she still lives. The young man produced a couple dozen cans of beer ─ three different types ─ and a bottle of white wine that he presented to us before he left. The wine would surely be  intended for Bev.

I'm sure it was likely a combined gift from him and his older brother.

Anyway, as I was returning to my bedroom for that nap, Bev emerged from the bedroom she shares with my brother, so it was good that I had not decided to watch the remainder of the movie by myself, rather than turning the T.V. off and coming upstairs.

So I was to have my nap, and thereafter I have remained upstairs thus far as I type these words at 3:30 p.m.

Bev turned on football as soon as she got downstairs, and I imagine that has been what has exclusively been on the T.V. My brother had joined her at some point during my nap.

The morning was bright and sunny, for it dropped below freezing overnight and all was frosty out. But the morning did cloud over; and just past 3 p,m. I could hear it raining outside.

At 3:03 p.m., by the way, I got a text from my wife wishing me "Merry Christmas", so I returned something similar to her, sincerely so.

I am going to break from blogging now and tune in a different Christmas movie on my bedside computer and do some drinking here in my bedroom after I close the door to best be by myself.

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I watched 2019's You Light Up My Christmas. My source was this OK.ru link.

I was not at all pleased when I realized that it was yet another Black-character Christmas movie. I never grew up around Black folks, and it was not in fact until into my early 50s when I started knowing any Black people ─ that was through work. So I just cannot directly identify with their family scene ─ I only know what T.V. provided by way of sitcoms and such.

Why have there been so many Black Christmas-based movies in my recent viewing? I think more than half of the movies I have watched centred around them in the last 10 or so I have viewed.

This one was pretty good, though.

One fault of Black Christmas lead actresses is that they tend to be ... plump. This one was Kim Fields. Sure, her face was very attractive, but she needed to have done a lot of work from whenever it was that she seemed familiar to me ─ some long ago sitcom of the 1970s or 1980s.

Whatever the case, it was, as said, an interesting enough story and definitely touching enough; and I got through two cans of Cariboo Malt (7.9% alcohol).

I suppose that it finished around 5:30 p.m. at most. I then opened my bedroom door to work on this post update and a thing or two more. My brother once came upstairs to use the toilet, but said nothing either time he passed by my open bedroom doorway.

Football was still playing on T.V.

By the way, just before I shut myself into my bedroom for You Light Up My Christmas, Bev presented herself to give to me two $20 lottery scratch ticket gift packs ─ one being intended for my wife. As I said earlier, I had nothing to offer her in return, since I cannot walk far with my lame right leg any longer.

As one might suspect, the one-sided exchange made me feel miserly.

Right now it is 5:52 p.m., so I am going to break again for a time.

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My brother tapped on my bedroom door and then opened it nigh 6:30 p.m., asking if I was hungry ─ supper was ready.

From what I could tell, no one else had been around to partake. I know this likely weighed on him and Bev.

I came downstairs and loaded up a plateful with more than I thought I might be able to handle; meantime, Bev seemed to be keeping herself removed, and my brother ─ although I was upbeat and cheery enough ─ responded in a subdued manner to anything I socially said as I piled up my plate load.

Football was on T.V., of course.

Once I had my feed, I merely announced to him with perhaps a touch of merriment, "Well, back to my Christmas movies!" And upstairs I went.

I don't know if the two idiots are feeling snubbed by me ─ or if I should be by them. But if they want my bloody company on Christmas evening, then is it not up to the two fools to figure out that I am not going to spend the evening watching 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ football games just because they are into 'bread and circuses'?

It's Christmas Day ─ screw your damned football games! Watch Christmas movies, for Pete's sake!

They made their choice. An evening just like every other one they have each and every single day ─ except that my brother never bused away in the early afternoon to go social drinking, thereafter coming back to Bev blitzed.

Do they truly believe I want nothing more out of my life than sitting shut up all alone in my bedroom drinking alone and watching shows on my computer monitor?

Whatever.

I watched a 2019 movie called Rock and Roll Christmas. My source was this uFLIX.to link.

This was not the sort of Christmas movie I best lose myself into emotionally, but it was a nice story. It was also really nice watching actress Beverley Mitchell portraying the daughter of actress Catherine Mary Stewart.

I would say more concerning the movie, but I am shy on time.

It finished around 7:50 p.m., by which time it seemed that my brother and Bev were back to watching their old T.V. reruns ─ as I type this at 8:19 p.m., I can hear The Andy Griffith Show playing. Both of them have passed by my open bedroom door in making visits to the toilet, but only Bev has said aught ─ inviting me to go downstairs and have "seconds" due to how much food remains.

Truth to tell, during the movie I contemplated just going to bed once it was over, even though the huge plateful of food was not especially burdensome at all. I suppose that I could have more, but I will not. The problem is easily drinking. After I had finished my second can of beer I poured myself a glass tumbler (over eight fluid ounces) of Mission Ridge Premium Red Wine (13% alcohol).

So now what?

I could indeed go to bed, but I would likely be rather sleepless by 3 a.m.

I am going to watch a third Christmas movie ─ maybe this one will yield the emotional release I seek that is so addictively destructive where I am concerned in my situation in life. I want more drunken effect anyway ─ I am not feeling my drinking sufficiently hard.

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My final Christmas movie was 2019's Staging Christmas. And my source was this other uFLIX.to link.

I loved this one ─ it was the sort of movie I wanted! It made me want my own Soleil Moon Frye! The actress's name was somewhat familiar, but I cannot say why I may know if it.

Why was she always wearing sloppy clothes? The woman has gorgeous legs.

I also was deeply drawn to the token child in the movie, played by actress Mia Clark ─ why has the sweetheart only got four acting gigs to her credit? She was absolutely adorable.

I was so affected by the movie that I drank an additional two cans of beer ─ so, four in total this evening, plus the red wine. I came close to having a stiff shot of rum, since I had opened it this morning for the two spiked coffees (I had those creamed with Carolans Irish Cream, a bottle my brother likely had set out).

This wonderful Christmas movie ended ... maybe by 10 p.m. Right now it is 10:28 p.m. A little before, I think that I heard my youngest stepson enter the house, but I am unsure.

I intended getting to bed, but damn it! 'Tis a bit early. Toward that end I am going to tune in the last 40 or 50 minutes of Noelle, since my brother evidently lacks anything like the Christmas spirit that infects me ... fatally, I think.

I am going to find a source and watch it here in my bedroom before getting to bed. This time, I shall have some straight dark rum. 

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Before I tuned in Noelle, it sounded below like my brother might be talking with my eldest stepson in the kitchen area ─ the gym addict loves to eat, so maybe he was here?

I gathered up my gift for him and almost hobbled downstairs ... but then my asocial affliction seized firm control and I withdrew, shutting myself back up into the tiny sanctum of my wee bedroom with my computer that is my sole connection with the fake world I live within.

Was the 31-year-old here? I have no idea.

I tuned in Noelle at this GOOJARA.to link and watched what my brother had refused this morning. And I loved it ─ as said before, it was a truly sweet movie.

I made do with just a good shot of rum, although initially I was inclined to quaff it quicker and indulge in another.

And now I reckon I shall start shutting things down here on my computer and get to bed, although I am weirdly rather hungry ─ how? If it was possible to sneak downstairs to the dining table unnoticed, and load up at least another half-plateful of Christmas turkey grub, I would.

I am going to publish this post now at 12;01 a.m. and get to bed. I can always load up on some of that supposed organic turkey and whatever other fixings remain once I undoubtedly waken in the latter part of the night.

Still, I would like to drink more, too.