You’ll be doing alright, with your Christmas of white

But I’ll have a warm, green Christmas… 1

With P away, I wasn’t planning to the do the Xmas thing this year. But my hand was forced; there are several people in my megalab who aren’t going home or have any relatives in the US. Well, neither do I, but after three decades of commemorating an event I don’t even believe happened, it could have gone by without my being bothered. Ach well. It’s going to be an anti-Martha Stewart Christmas lunch from me. A last minute decision to have the lunch was sealed by the availability of one last honey-baked ham at… HoneyBake. It still amazes me that there’s a shop that specialises in honey-baked ham. It’s such an easy thing to do. Anyway, I’ll take the cop-out this year and not roast any ducks or geese. It’s just not cold enough to justify a full-on coma-inducing spread2.

I used to enjoy Christmas the most in Scotland. It was the jollility that started winter for me; an excuse to buy new gloves and scarves or add to the winter coat collection. But it’s not quite the same when you’re not marking the change of the seasons.

Also, I’m tired. I’m bone tired. I’ve had insomnia for a couple of months now. The sleep deprivation was not helped by the stress of getting P ready to go home. And now, chores that used to be shared by two have to be done on my ownsome. And the dog developed weird behavioural and gastrointestinal problems due to “separation anxiety”. Blimey, she’s definitely an LA dog. So, it’s understandable why I’m not feeling the festive cheer.

Also, the city is busy and yet deserted at the holidays. Whole Foods was absolutely mobbed with stressed-looking people. My cart and I were bumper car-ed all over the shop. What’s with the crazed food shopping before Thanksgiving and Christmas anyway? It’s not even like the supermarkets shut for the holidays. I can understand buying a crap load of potatoes and stashes of brussels sprouts to feed the army, but why the gallons of milk? Half of it will probably get poured down the drain. The whole wasteful nature of Christmas makes me very humbuggy. Bah.

I often wonder where all these people come from. Westwood is bereft of all its students. My neighbourhood of young couples is also empty; they’ve all gone to parents’ or in-laws’ for the holidays. The dog and I have met fewer people on the street since last week. It feels like a scene from I Am Legend, with a deserted city whose inhabitants come out only to… shop.

Incidentally, it’s nice to know I’m not alone. Happy Humbugs one and all.


1 Sorry Elvis…

2 Question on etiquette: Should I give presents to all my guests? I know some better than others and would rather avoid going down the box of chocolates route.

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