"Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse." ~ Clark Griswold (National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation)
I head home for the holidays on the 23rd. Home to the Maritimes, home to my friends, home to my family. If you've read my previous posts, you know how different I am from my family (those fundamental differences that make everything oh, so interesting) and one of these particular differences were recently highlighted in an email I received from my sister. I recently received my "itinerary" for my entire holiday vacation - each day laid out with where I will be and who I will be with. Every moment accounted for, every interaction pre-planned. This made me laugh, as opposed to cry, because I am unfortunately used to it. Oddly enough, I was just super happy that time with my friends was actually planned into my vacation schedule.
My parents wonder why I spend my holidays drinking copious amounts of alcohol and I wonder to myself, doesn't every one cope with their family during the holidays by drinking excessively? It's so effective! The more I drink, the funnier they become.
There'd better be a case of wine waiting for me.