Looking for a Christmas Drinking Buddy

Merry Christmas? Why the hell are you reading this? Go spend time with your family!

Unless you’re like me and alone for the holidays. Wow. That was depressing. Sorry. But then, if you’re sneaking on the internet when you should be having Christmas brunch with your parents, you deserve it. If you’re sitting by yourself, I’ve got a couple of bottles of wine in the fridge, come on over and we can split them.

Ever since my parents’ divorce, scheduling holidays has been tricky. When I was still living at home, it was easier, because they lived about forty-five minutes away from each other, so I could feasibly see both of them for the day. Then I went off to college, and I purposefully chose a college that wasn’t close by to either of my family members. Suddenly I had to decide which parent to spend which holiday with.

It’s a juggling act. This year, I decided I didn’t want to juggle, and I’ll be spending the holidays with friends. Not only does it save me from having to decide who to visit when, but it also means I don’t have to fight my coworkers for who gets to take the days around Christmas off.

And that means one very, very, very important thing people.

No trying to fit fifteen outfits for five days into one tiny suitcase and still keep it under fifty pounds! (Hey, books and shoes are HEAVY).

No having to remember if I took my nail file out of my purse.

No getting stranded in some random city when my second flight gets canceled.


But even when all of that is said and done, I am going to miss my family. This is the first year I’ve spent the holidays on my own. We’ll see how it goes and play it by ear for next year.

That being said. Hopefully by this time I’ve finished my Christmas shopping! Or even started it. If not, well… my family all like to read, and Amazon e-cards ship same day. (Not that I know this from previous experience or anything…)

So I’m trying something new this year. Not traveling to see family. Ideally I won’t spend it alone… but even if I am, that’s okay. I’ve got some wine. I’ve got a snuggly kitty-cat, and I’ve got a mountain of books that I’ve been meaning to read. This might possibly be the best Christmas yet.

At the age of six, Eliza was certain of two things. The first was that she had stories to tell. The second was that she had no talent for illustrating them herself. Talent or no, she still wrote and illustrated her first book, one that should be located and locked away if only to prevent her parents from embarrassing her terribly by showing it off alongside baby pictures. Now she spends her days writing stories that she isn't embarrassed to show off after a little bit of polishing.

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