As Christmas draws near, and I continue to become increasingly depressed--the excitement is about anticipation after all--let's focus on all the stuff that kept me going strong this month, starting off with the view I have seen first thing in the morning for 24 consecutive Christmases.
New Year’s Eve is two and a half weeks away, but I’ve been feeling pressure to nail plans down since November. Ticket sales for clubs and bars are well under way, with prices escalating as the days pass. Should I go? Should I not go? Are you going? Are we all going? This feels all too much like Coachella.
My roommate views NYE in the same way I feel about Halloween: there’s too much hype, incidental tears, and cleavage. You spend hundreds of dollars on an outfit, an event, flights, and cabs, only to find yourself waiting hours for the band or model-turned-celebrity-DJ to play, your boyfriend missing during the countdown, or that you passed out before midnight.
As for me, I operate well under pressure, so I actually enjoy New Year’s Eve and the hoopla that surrounds it. I look forward to the prep, the excitement, the excuse to drink champagne all night. It’s a true procrastinator’s holiday—a last chance to eke out whatever remaining fun the year has to offer, all while saving your regrets of the night (and the past 364 for that matter) for another day.
For a pleasant change of pace last New Year's Eve, I rang in 2011 in downtown Seattle. This year, I'll be hanging a little south in Napa, which I think is going to be a little less Gaga and a lot more Grigio.
It's the same thing every year. I get all geared up for Christmas--write out shopping lists in October, purchase in November, wrap on Thanksgiving, begin decorating December 1st--so that now I'm already feeling as derailed as the Cain Train.
I'm probably too ambitious (somewhere, my grade school teachers share a laugh), insisting that all cookies be made from scratch, the icing be done meticulously by hand, and everything wrapped in satin ribbon and acid-free cellophane. So when my mom asked me to ghost bake for a few events she'd be attending, my smug ass thought I'd be all fancy. Gingerbread reindeer (amazing recipe), linzer shortbread, flourless chocolate cookies, and peppermint meringues for days.
Sure, it's fun adding the first three or so red noses while listening to A Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, but by cookie 26, you're blasting Foo Fighters, ready to take a gun to a real Rudolph. You'd think I would learn from my mistakes year after year, but here I am less than two weeks away from Christmas, already too tired (and buttery) to type.
The shirts have a vintage appeal and unique graphics, perfect for the sports fan in your life or for anyone who appreciates a simple, well-made design. Also be sure to listen to the pop-up playlist located in the site's top right corner--I left it open long after I made some key purchases.
Check out the goods here while I check off another task on my list.
As far as I'm concerned, my final bite of pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving dinner marks the official start of Christmas. As with most things, the best part about Christmas is the anticipation, and I plan on enjoying a full month of it.
I wait all year for this holiday, tided only by the unbridled joy of Shark Week, so my roommate and I jumpstarted the countdown on the 1st by getting jacked up on red and green M&M's before driving to Virginia to pick out our tree. If Christmas is the king of all holidays, the tree is Elvis.
Really, the tree is the triple threat of holiday decor: it looks good, it smells good, it guards all of your loot. Just try and name one other thing in your life--person, animal, or mineral--that can do all three.
Sure, there's a wreath somewhere in storage and the stockings have been hanging by the chimney with care since 2009, but Christmas prep doesn't fully commence until the tree is trimmed.
I mean, we're just crushing December here in apartment 1.