This year, I was decidedly lax with my holiday spirit. Don't get me wrong, I still did my wrapping and my trimming, but there are numerous things that I decided to skip this year.
For starters, for the first year since I've been married, I didn't mail Christmas cards. Not because I didn't have anyone to send them to, mind. I just didn't want to mess with them. I didn't want to sort through pictures, I didn't want to spend hours finding the right card, I didn't want to devote one of my free evenings to the labour that is addressing the darned things. I just plain didn't want to even mess with them.
Nor did I hang the stockings. Or the mistletoe. I hardly decorated the house. I didn't bake cookies, I didn't break my back, hunched over dozens of gingerbread men giving myself carpal tunnel with a piping bag. I didn't trot out my fake snow for my displays and I didn't almost break my neck hanging garland over my bar. I didn't even put out my prized nativities. Everything just stayed in the boxes, secluded and gathering dust.
I think, now that my well-trimmed tree is once again in its box in the garage, that I can safely say my case of the holiday blahs came from an overwhelming December. It's hard to get excited about writing the same three lines of text in itty bitty print on envelopes over and over again when you know exams are looming and your time with a pen could be better spent. Plus? I was out of town for almost a week before Christmas anyway, there simply wasn't time. Or motivation.
Part of me feels guilty, like I cheated my family members out of a much more enjoyable holiday. But do you know what? Another part of me points out that instead of gaining weight from all the cookies and candies, I actually LOST weight in December. And that same part of me was rejoicing this afternoon when I only had two boxes of decor to stuff back into the closet instead of five. And that I didn't have to switch out pillow covers or linens or hand towels.
Now, I'm hoping that decidedly Scrooge part of me is sufficiently pacified for the next few years. I actually do enjoy the decorating. I like making my home a holiday haven. But this year? I'm giving myself a pass and an "excused absence" note. And I'm totally cool with that.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
2012: An Open Letter
Dear 2012,
My friend, is it morbid to begin something new with a lament at something that is going away? I hope not. Because I would really enjoy the opportunity to sing your praises, preferably from the top of someplace... very high.
You, my darling 2012, have been one grand year. You have given me so much, and I'm not really ready to let you go yet. You'll be gone in a mere 25 days, and within the space of that time, I know you have the capacity for so much.
We started off together well in January, when you saw me returning to my college campus to continue bettering myself through my higher education. I hadn't been in a long time, and I was wary of the things I could accomplish. But, accomplish I did. I flew through that entire semester and by May, you and I were already quite thick, even though I scolded you for a long summer that kept me away from my classrooms. Because I'm that kind of kid. Always have been. You sent me back into the educational fray in June, and then again in September, which has left us where we are today, studying for an exam that is as intimidating as it is hard to study for. In July, you gave me a chance to share myself with people that I hope to count as colleagues one day when I was chosen to present at an academic conference by one of my mentors. I think that may be the greatest individual, academic accomplishment to date and I'll be darned, 2012, if it wasn't on your watch. Thank you for that.
Not everything this year has been about the journey of a scholar, not hardly. We've seen loved ones get fantastic news about ongoing medical issues. We've seen unwelcome stressors make an exit. We've made new friends, we've gained an idol, a mentor and a personal cheerleader all in one person, we've seen family start new jobs, learn new things and make their own great strides. You gave us back a loved one who had been sent overseas, into dangerous places, with our country's military. You sent us on vacation, a grand vacation that allowed us to relish in the joy of being with people who make you happy. Throughout the course of our days together, you've kept me on the very tops of my toes and I have loved every minute of it. You even gave me a most perfect gift when you delivered up an old friend, once thought lost, wrapped neatly with a little bow on top. That was a particularly nice little effect, 2012, you definitely saved your best trick for last.
You gave me a fantastic fall. Fantastic, 2012, and I'm going to say I believe my brethren in maroon will agree with me. You gave us something so exciting, so wonderful, and so unexpected that there was nothing else to do but sit back and watch the wonder unfold. It was excellent. It still IS excellent, 2012, but I'm afraid all the fruits of your labor, the big payoff for the people involved, has been handed to 2013. I sure hope 2013 takes a page from your book, in absolutely all the ways it can.
It hasn't all been sunshine and daisies. You took a beloved friend from one of my beloved friends. You made me miss the wedding of my best friend. You gave me some uncomfortable personal moments. However. I can't fault you for this, 2012. Every time something a little rotten has happened, I have been surprised by all the good that continues to flow from you. Just please, let 2013 know that I'd like all of those I love to avoid any funerals. Is that too much to ask?
So here's the thing, 2012. You're almost over, but you've got a lot that you can pack into your remaining days. This coming Saturday, it would be really nice if you could let things go my way again. We'd all appreciate that, 2012, and I think it'd be an almost-perfect end to your reign. I know in a couple of weeks I'll be adding a sister to my family's ranks and I think that's real swell of you to do that. I feel like it's not fair to ask you any more favors, after all you've done, but you seem to know my heart's desire so well, 2012, that I think you have a pretty good idea of the way I'd like this year to end.
Those are the things I can put on paper, in black and white, and give concrete evidence to pack it up: text messages between friends, plane tickets, football scores and stats... But there's something else you've given me and I cannot even begin to express how vital that has been. You have given me MYSELF this year, 2012. You have allowed me to know myself, to realize what I want and what I'm willing to do to get there. You have given me a plan. You have given me a purpose. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart, thank you.
And so, 2012, in conclusion, I can't help but wish you wanted to stay around for another dozen months. I wouldn't mind at all. But you have to go, and I just want you to know that there will be nobody who is sadder about your departure than me. We've been great together, and I can't even express what you've meant to me. Thank you, 2012. Thank you.
Mournfully,
Me.
My friend, is it morbid to begin something new with a lament at something that is going away? I hope not. Because I would really enjoy the opportunity to sing your praises, preferably from the top of someplace... very high.
You, my darling 2012, have been one grand year. You have given me so much, and I'm not really ready to let you go yet. You'll be gone in a mere 25 days, and within the space of that time, I know you have the capacity for so much.
We started off together well in January, when you saw me returning to my college campus to continue bettering myself through my higher education. I hadn't been in a long time, and I was wary of the things I could accomplish. But, accomplish I did. I flew through that entire semester and by May, you and I were already quite thick, even though I scolded you for a long summer that kept me away from my classrooms. Because I'm that kind of kid. Always have been. You sent me back into the educational fray in June, and then again in September, which has left us where we are today, studying for an exam that is as intimidating as it is hard to study for. In July, you gave me a chance to share myself with people that I hope to count as colleagues one day when I was chosen to present at an academic conference by one of my mentors. I think that may be the greatest individual, academic accomplishment to date and I'll be darned, 2012, if it wasn't on your watch. Thank you for that.
Not everything this year has been about the journey of a scholar, not hardly. We've seen loved ones get fantastic news about ongoing medical issues. We've seen unwelcome stressors make an exit. We've made new friends, we've gained an idol, a mentor and a personal cheerleader all in one person, we've seen family start new jobs, learn new things and make their own great strides. You gave us back a loved one who had been sent overseas, into dangerous places, with our country's military. You sent us on vacation, a grand vacation that allowed us to relish in the joy of being with people who make you happy. Throughout the course of our days together, you've kept me on the very tops of my toes and I have loved every minute of it. You even gave me a most perfect gift when you delivered up an old friend, once thought lost, wrapped neatly with a little bow on top. That was a particularly nice little effect, 2012, you definitely saved your best trick for last.
You gave me a fantastic fall. Fantastic, 2012, and I'm going to say I believe my brethren in maroon will agree with me. You gave us something so exciting, so wonderful, and so unexpected that there was nothing else to do but sit back and watch the wonder unfold. It was excellent. It still IS excellent, 2012, but I'm afraid all the fruits of your labor, the big payoff for the people involved, has been handed to 2013. I sure hope 2013 takes a page from your book, in absolutely all the ways it can.
It hasn't all been sunshine and daisies. You took a beloved friend from one of my beloved friends. You made me miss the wedding of my best friend. You gave me some uncomfortable personal moments. However. I can't fault you for this, 2012. Every time something a little rotten has happened, I have been surprised by all the good that continues to flow from you. Just please, let 2013 know that I'd like all of those I love to avoid any funerals. Is that too much to ask?
So here's the thing, 2012. You're almost over, but you've got a lot that you can pack into your remaining days. This coming Saturday, it would be really nice if you could let things go my way again. We'd all appreciate that, 2012, and I think it'd be an almost-perfect end to your reign. I know in a couple of weeks I'll be adding a sister to my family's ranks and I think that's real swell of you to do that. I feel like it's not fair to ask you any more favors, after all you've done, but you seem to know my heart's desire so well, 2012, that I think you have a pretty good idea of the way I'd like this year to end.
Those are the things I can put on paper, in black and white, and give concrete evidence to pack it up: text messages between friends, plane tickets, football scores and stats... But there's something else you've given me and I cannot even begin to express how vital that has been. You have given me MYSELF this year, 2012. You have allowed me to know myself, to realize what I want and what I'm willing to do to get there. You have given me a plan. You have given me a purpose. Thank you, from the very bottom of my heart, thank you.
And so, 2012, in conclusion, I can't help but wish you wanted to stay around for another dozen months. I wouldn't mind at all. But you have to go, and I just want you to know that there will be nobody who is sadder about your departure than me. We've been great together, and I can't even express what you've meant to me. Thank you, 2012. Thank you.
Mournfully,
Me.
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