Friday, November 4, 2016

Never Resist Pie.

The holidays are a-coming. And, in forty-eight years, I've never dreaded any of them. This is where I feel blessed; I have no relatives--visiting or not--that I loathe seeing. No one that inspires me to stock up on extra alcohol. (Yuk-yuk!)

Even luckier, I don't suffer nightmare-traveling. How, you ask? I just don't. Meaning, I don't travel during the holidays. And the few times I do, I don't even attempt to be at my destination 'in time for Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Year's Eve/Day,' because I have In-laws with careers that aren't holiday-break-friendly. So, there's the lack of that form of familial pressure.
But if you're receiving the "Just get here!" level of stress from clan, why would you willingly oblige them?

The only festivity unpleasantness I choose is the few extra pounds that'll stretch the elastic on my yoga pants. And by the way, men? Chuck the belts! Waistline bondage and Stove-Top stuffing never went hand-in-hand. Loosening the buckle notches to watch football was verboten in my house, growing up; Mah thought it tacky. She was always more easy-going about sweat-pants.

Christmas will be especially fab; I'm house-sitting! Holiday fare, flat-screen, peace, Netflix, solitude....ohhhhmmmm. The only primo improvement would be a lazy cat to keep me company, but I can't have it all. And the home-owners usually honor my simple request of a Barnes & Noble gift-card, in lieu of an elaborate, dust-collecting, porcelain-whatever. So I win again. (And I've routinely spent the card online inside an hour!)

But I'll still have opportunities to hang with an awesomely hip sect that won't have me reaching for the Captain Morgan.

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