I once googled a bunch of adjectives I would use to describe myself followed by some nouns I associate with my personality, and the picture above came up on the first page.
I stepped away from my desk, shifted my body and leaned with my left hip jutted out as I crossed my arms and brought my thumb and forefinger to my chin. I squinted my eyes and gazed upon the JPEG in front of me. “Yes,” I whispered. “Finally, yes. They’ve done it.” I laughed with heart, with soul, with the knowledge, even, the knowledge of a thousand wizards.
Here’s the deal, assholes: I fucking love Christmas. I love everything about it. I am fully aware of what Christmas in the 21st century actually consists of; marketing ploys, uncontrolled consumerism and DUIs, but I am telling you right now, I don’t care. I fucking love Christmas.
I have been listening to Christmas music since November 1. My car is the fucking Christmas Mobile from November 1 until December 26. I love Christmas music with everything I have. Good Christmas music is the most romantic and beautiful thing and if you disagree then I just have to assume someone punched your ear when you were a baby, right through to the center, and now you are both deaf and stupid.
I know that my love of Christmas doesn’t make any sense. I’m far from religious anymore and my extended family is so dysfunctional and insane that I can't be sure if the alcoholism that runs in my family came first or if it is just a symptom of being in my family.
But I fucking love it, I do. The holiday reminds me of such happy times.
So yesterday I made a batch of cocoa, we turned on the Christmas records, and we decorated the shit out of our tree. We also ate candy because we're a couple of assholes.
So there you have it.
Oh also this is my livingroom. I live in it. I don't think I have shown the Internet my digs.
Welp, too bad!