It's Christmas. Well, nearly. Ballantynes, the bridge of remembrance and the tacky wreath on my neighbour's door say it is. I think that means it's time to drag out my own, even tackier wreath, and throw up that prickly monstrosity in the corner that Shadow so loves to tip over every chance she gets. I'll wait 'til December this time, though. I learned my lesson last time!
It could be worse, I suppose; it could be New Years, and we all know how much I love those! Oh wait. That comes straight after. Dammnit!
Truth is, I love the build-up more than the event. I have one friend in particular who has her shopping pretty much done by September, hums Christmas carols at work, and does a "Christmas dance" at random moments of the day. I may laugh, but secretly I wish I had that Christmas spirit.
I, however, am that moron with the frazzled hair wandering around the malls on the 24th, my fists bunched, suffering a grand-mal attack of Mall Rage, whilst fruitlessly poking through piles of junk before giving up and buying everyone a bottle of wine off the top shelf at Pak 'N Save. Even the kids.
I wish I was good at Christmas, but I'm just not. I swear I should get special consideration for that. Know me before you judge me!
I do, however, love all the BBQs and getting drunk in the middle of the day. That I am good at. It seems my Christmas spirit comes mixed with tonic with a nice wedge of lime.
Please, people, if you like me at all, leave comments with great gift ideas!