Happy friggin' holidays.

Oh how I love this magical time of year. There's still a hint of Autumn in the air, I get to incorporate cozy sweaters into my work wardrobe, rock hoodies and jeans on the weekend and most importantly, my adult sized fleece footed pajamas. Even things that are already appealing suddenly become even MORE appealing. Like drinking. "It's the holidays, come over for a few drinks and laughs" Right? Not only do the holidays help mask alcoholism, The cozy hoodies and sweaters enable me to hide my annual 10 pound holiday-booze-n-food-a-polooza.



So bottom line is "The holidays are the shit!" - Right?



WRONG.



Fucking wrong my friends.



Holidays are the shit until people get incorporated into the mix. I.e. Extended family. Every year we end up being spread so thin that it makes Nicole Richie jealous. We do the whole "We might need to leave a little early to show up somewhere else a little late..." To TRY to make everyone happy and satisfied, when really, we spend more time in the car driving from place to place to place than we do at the actual destinations. It's exhausting. Yet, for some reason, year after year we continue to do it. After all, we just CAN'T be the bastards that make grandma cry on Thanksgiving or Christmas due to our absence.



No one is ever happy. Ever. Especially ME. I take on the task of trying to please everyone every god damn year and hear nothing but "Oh, Why are you leaving so early?" Or "Oh, You can't show up late, You'll miss dinner"


One of these years I really am going to stick to my guns about not leaving my house. I can enjoy the damn holidays from inside the comfort of my own home. Dressed in my footed pajamas, Sipping on spiked eggnog, Cuddled up with a good book and happier than a pig in shit.

Now that's my idea of a good god damn holiday.

Bahhumbug.