Christmas Again

It's been six months since my last confession... That's quite a long time, really. It's Christmas again already. And I have to admit, I've been facebook-stalking my exes. Now I try to be realistic here. I would never in a million years want any of them back. But there are certainly things I miss. I wonder why the holidays always make being an awesome single person feel like being a lonely sad sack destined to live for several long decades in a dingey apartment with three or more cats until neighbors start to smell something funny. Not funny ha-ha. Funny "For the love of all that is holy, what is that?" Of course the smell will be my cats because after they've eaten my body they'll have starved. Ah, decomposers.

But on the upside, I get presents. My parents are pretty awesome that way. They like to get their children lots of neat things. So material goods are always an effective way of getting one's mind off of Christmas's relentless brandishing of marriage and family.

Also, there's shopping. Shoving people to and fro, laying on your horn, seething for an entire half hour in your car because the stupid guy in the antique shop where you finally found something awesome for your artsy mother is a cantankerous ass-hat who obviously wants nothing more than to keep all his stupid old trinkets to himself and you didn't have the presence of mind to call him on it while you were actually in the store being badgered by the onerous fart.

So perhaps New Year's will bring something better than this. Or perhaps I'll meet another desperate divorcee (I'm not divorced, but he was) and have another three to four month long fling that gets me that much further from real love if it even exists. Now I'm just being bitter. And with that, I will go my way and wish you Happy Holidays. Or whatever.