Dear Diary

Dear Diary

By Annie Proulx

Dec. 2nd, Diary entry #23:

This is ridiculous. This year has already been hell after the divorce, mom moving up to Washington, living through a pandemic, and everything else sucking! The only thing I was looking forward to was the holidays. After the pretty fall leaves coat the ground and the cozy sweaters come out, the Christmas lights illuminate the streets as we enjoy the best time of year. Well, that’s how it usually goes. But this year, when I thought Theresa and her little son Tommy moving in and messing everything up couldn’t get any worse; turning my art room into her walk-in closet, an overpowering Chanel scent on everything, etc., it did get worse! She found a way to ruin the best time of year. 

Instead of our tradition of decorating for Christmas on November 25th, exactly one month before Christmas, she gave her unwanted input and convinced dad to wait until December 23rd. Who does that? She had no right. And don’t get me started with precious little Tommy. Apparently he has to watch HIS favourite movie on Christmas eve this year. We always watch The Santa Clause movies! But of course he has to get his way or he’ll probably lock us out of the house, turn off all the lights, and watch The Godfather again. Like what the hell? How- he’s literally six. 

Also, guess what. You know our amazing, beloved tubs of holiday decorations? They have been tossed to the curb because we have to have all white decorations from now on. This isn’t a freaking Ikea catalogue. I want our broken, terrifying Santa statue that sits on our porch. It’s bad enough that on Thanksgiving she made us eat Tofurky and coconut milk gravy. That’s one holiday ruined, and now Christmas? Sure my dad’s happy, but he married her so quickly after the divorce! Hopefully she’s just a rebound and he’ll get tired of her. This house is a nightmare. I’m so irritated but I guess I’ll sign off now. I’m being called downstairs to get a Lego piece out of Tommy’s nose while Theresa entertains her rich friends over Zoom in the “formal living room”.. What even is that? Two months ago it was called the rec room.  

December 10th, Diary entry #24:

I’m so tired of this stuck up, spoiled, self involved, witch changing everything! You guessed it, Theresa. Let me just fill you in on what’s been going on. Just this morning, I went downstairs to show dad my Christmas list. All I have on it is new paint brushes and white socks, but she who shall not be named chimed in and told me I should add something more feminine. She went on to say, “You know what Sara, I’ll take care of it. I can fix-”, then she looked me up and down, and didn’t finish her sentence. Like literally shut up Theresa, sorry 11th graders don’t wear blazers and Louboutins. Another favourite from today, she suggested I call her mom. Hilarious. Mother Theresa, imagine… She’s far from it! Thought you’d get a kick out of that. 

Wait OMG, you’ll love this one. Last night at the dinner table as I stared at my plate of veggie couscous, (don’t get me wrong, I’m all for veganism. Save those pigs! But Theresa cannot cook for the life of her) dad brought up our annual Christmas tree outing. We always go up to his buddy's place and cut down a beautiful tree. Don’t get too excited, because Theresa had something to say. Doesn’t she always? SO instead of going to Stans this year, our outing will be to a storage locker to get her $900 (white, of course) fake Christmas tree. After dinner, she made me do the dishes for her so she could get the iced latte she was craving. Hate to break it to you Theresa, but real vegans don’t make exceptions for their favourite starbucks drink.

 I’m known for being an understanding and patient person, but I can’t deal with my evil stepmother anymore and her evil spawn. I miss the way things used to be. One happy family, fun traditions, me being the main focus. But now it’s like not only having a wicked stepbrother, but an older, stuck up sister. I wish my dad could see what I see in them. This time last year we were making sugar cookies and decorating them for Christmas. Now, I’m not even allowed to say sugar. I can’t do this anymore, I think I’m going to ask to move in with mom. And I know this sounds dramatic, but it’s been constant everyday for months. Why would I deal with this when I have a parent that will actually put me first.

December 23rd, Diary entry #25:

Update... So, I asked mom the other night what she would think of me moving in with her. Of course she was excited, but dad heard, he was not. I think I crushed him. To be honest, I was hoping he would drop Theresa, we’d hug and it would be okay... But I guess I understand. I know he loves and cares about me but I can’t expect him to kick his new wife out. 

I really don’t know what to do. I can’t stand Theresa, but can I drop everything and leave San Francisco? She makes me feel invisible and I’m running out of good comebacks. I miss seeing mom everyday, but I like going to school here, seeing my friends, and I love my job at the cafe. Can I just move to Tacoma right now? I have a lot of thinking to do. I mean, I’m dad's only real family here. Mom lives near her siblings and cousins. If I’m going to college in a year and a half, could I just stick it out until then? I don’t know if you can help me with this one, Diary. I think dad and I have some talking to do before I’m the one that ruins Christmas.