Dear Santa From Peony

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Dear Santa,

I guess that it’s been a few years since I’ve written, but I am certain that you understand since you are watching all of the time. It’s creepy to think about, really, but that’s another letter.

It’s been one of those really fucked up years where I don’t know if I am happy, sad, satisfied, or utterly disgusted with both myself and the world. Today, though, I was able to sit down and silently celebrate some things to myself and be happy in my own skin. Joy, however minute, existed and I was happy to have something that needed to be written.

So, here we are.  I don’t know that I have been thankful for a whole lot of anything in a few years, or where in the hell those years went most days. I guess that’s what I get, eh?

This year, I do have a good number of miracles that really need to take place. I may be a bit selfish in wanting things for myself, but I want these same things for every single person I have ever crossed paths with. I’d like a lottery ticket, or some other large sum of money to fall into my lap so that I can get some things in order for when my father gets out of prison.  This money would go towards a home large enough to accommodate my parents, a couple of bedrooms for the girls, and a decent sized space for me to escape the chaos and build a small studio. I need a vehicle. Furniture. Literally everything to be in place inside of 6 months. I have to have a way to get better or more employment to care for my family. I know that this is both a large order, and something I need to work for myself, but hey, a little help would be nice.

I want my parents to be able to be grandparents, together. They’ve been in love for years through murder, drugs, alcohol, the bullshit that my brother and I have pulled, and they deserve this. They are the epitome of loving through thick and thin, better or worse, and I believe that they deserve this happily ever after, their forever, because they have fought for it. It’s extraordinary to me, that two people could fall so completely in love that even with little and sometimes no communication, they still made it.  I don’t think that’s a thing that will ever happen for myself, so I think watching them will be plenty good.

One more thing, it’s about my brother.  I’d like to hear from him soon. I know he hates me, but I still love him and think of him often.  I hate to admit that some days, but I am what I am. I may not like his way of living and attitude most times, but I do care. I worry about him regularly and what he’s up to in life, if he’s okay, the basic things. I hope he gets all the way back up on his feet this year and finds love.  I hope he finds a woman who will understand his past without judgement, love him tough, in a gentle way and see the good in him. I know it’s hard as fuck sometimes, but there is good in there, and I believe he needs this to grow forward and flourish. Oh, and maybe put it in his ear to get a hold of his parents too, before neither one of them are where he can find them. Maybe he doesn’t care to know where we are or if we’re okay, and if that’s what his heart wishes, give him that. We’ll be okay. I wish him love, happiness, and inner peace, always.

Last, but not least, I hope that maybe you could help my grandma Sandie out with her memory and health stuff. I hope that the family down there, however backwards and stressed, will find it in them to let her go home and spend the holiday surrounded by family. I hope that they all find the patience to see past the dementia and mood swings to enjoy her company. I hope they appreciate her and make her feel cared for and peaceful to the best of their ability. I hope that any and all problems that they have with each other are resolved and that her stress can dissipate. Be sure that her favorite holiday is everything she’s always adored it for accompanied by a pain free day.

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Peony Ann

I am a mostly misunderstood child of the corn, born and raised in rural Illinois turned self-proclaimed writer with random, yet passionate opinions and views. It seems that I am self-taught because I was a stoner slack ass in high school who thought it’d be better to fuck around and see what kind of trouble I could make rather than to concentrate on a formal education. Who uses algebra in a corn field anyway? My mission in life is to be me, be happy, and FTW if they don’t like it. I used to know what I really wanted in life. Since I was 5 years old, all I wanted was to be married to the same woman my entire life, be a doctor, a writer, to have a litter all my own, and to be the “token ‘hot’ Asian” in most settings. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about being a boy, because girls were just so much prettier. Now, as I approach my dirty 30, I have accomplished only one of those things successfully because, well, I’m Asian and we breed like rabbits, resulting in my litter of 5. I aim to please, entertain and boggle with “WTF?!” moments. I even throw around a little poetry. Some will find me apPAULing, others hilarious, and some would maybe even call me a messed up kind of special. Those are the ones nearest and dearest to me who paid for all of those bibs, large crayons, and the occasional straight jacket to provide my short bus driver with for her own protection. Oh, and the ones who supported me through the transformational surgeries from Paul to Peony. I just wanted to be a delicate fucking flower, is that so wrong? P.S. I love my new tits!
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