I’m SUCH a child.

As many of you know, I’m not much of a one for Christmas these days. The very fact that I wished everyone a happy Solstice in the previous post should have been at least a bit of a hint. I don’t know what it is about it. Maybe it’s the historian in me being angry that we all get so riled up about something that is a 1700 year old publicity stunt, or maybe it’s the forced cheeriness that most people undergo . . . or perhaps it’s the fact that it’s usually the cheeriest people who turn into the scariest people if their roast comes out wrong or something (which, by the way, is the same reason I hate Disneyland. “Happiest place on Earth” my left buttock). Any which way, I just don’t dig it in general.

That said, this year I had SUCH a good time. Again, I don’t know what made this holiday different from the others. Maybe it was the extreme personal intoxication four out of the past six nights. Maybe it was the fantabulously perfect presents that I got this year (for example, in a remarkable feat of telepathy, my sister/brother-in-law gifted me with a “tic-tac-toe” game of shot glasses the exact next day after I was lamenting the fact that my father had none in the house . . . shot glasses, that is. Not tic-tac-toe games). It’s even entirely possible that it was the fact that my extended family coexisted harmoniously during each of the many incarnations of “togetherness” that have occurred over the past few days. Any which way, this has been an awesome holiday season.

Oh, and the whole point of the subject was that I found myself completely unable to sleep Christmas Eve Night. It was like childhood all over again, anxious over what Santa would be bringing me. Granted, I had just drunk half a bottle of Sambuca and nearly that much vodka and so this time was rather anxious over whether or not I would drown on my own vomit, but the sentiment is (more or less) the same.

So I’ll say to you all, Happy Christmas. Merry Holidays. And a Bitchin’ New Year!


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