It's another Christmas and
I'm here again.
This dismal basement
called a rec-room.
Old relatives--cousins, aunts, uncles.
Strange unknowns.
The guy over there with the 
bandana and an earring,
the artist, my second-cousin-once-removed's
boyfriend.
It's another Christmas and
I'm here again.
An eternally smiling beauty contestant.
Passive comments of,
"Oh, how you've grown"
"Aren't you adorable"
"You look just like your mother"
I'm not a party pooper.
But being here talking to 
plastic plants,
eating appetizers from
old recipes,
being forced to try dear sweet
Aunt Louise's old-fashioned 
cream cheese and caviar dip, and 
being subjected to Uncle Jack's stale breath
while he wheezes
"Do you have many boyfriends?"
I smile.
It's another Christmas and
I'm here again.
Dreading next year's
oh so wonderful Christmas
party.                                                          
                                   --Lisa, grade 9, from Patterns of Communication Course Guide