Dear December,
First, let me begin by saying how much I absolutely adore you. Really, I do. And this year doubly so, because I was so bummed at being all alone for Thanksgiving, and then you came along, December, with all your non-Thanksgiving-themed merchandise, music, and festivities—and, with the hope of seeing family at the end of the month. You showed up just in time.
I love how gaudy you are. None of those muted fall colors of Thanksgiving, the depressing browns and mustard yellows that only reminded me of how wrong it felt to be celebrating without our families. How I welcomed your candy-apple reds and neon greens! How I loved setting out the little dancing mouse Becki gave us one year, how adorable I found him, all red-scarfed and holding a string of flashing lights. I love our mismatched outdoor decorations, the kitschy joke ornaments indoors, the multiple nativity scenes.
And the TV! Movies and shows so bad we’d never dream of watching them at any other time of year. But during you, December, they’re lovely and make us think about being nine again. I even like your music; Jesse and I sing loudly and off-key whenever we’re driving, and it just lifts the mood. (Though I’ll admit to changing the station when anything resembling “The Christmas Shoes” comes on—even I have my limits.) I can’t forget the food, either. I’ve eaten my weight in your goodies, and my blood sugar complains, but do I listen? No, I think not.
But, December, it occurs to me that there is only so much celebrating one month can handle all on its own. And this year, we may have reached that limit.
Take the Christmas parties. For Jesse’s work alone, we will have attended three separate Christmas parties. Three! Now, if he were receiving three salaries, that would be something else entirely. Add the volunteer position he has, and that’s another party. Don’t forget the small group one next week, too.
Don’t get me wrong—I love parties. Especially those that involve overeating cheesy side dishes and visiting houses decorated in bold colors. Plus, I’ve gotten to trot out my leopard-print heels for at least one of the bashes. But…couldn’t we spread them out a bit? You wouldn’t mind too much, would you, December? Sharing some of your parties with, say, March? I know she has St. Patrick’s Day, but so far, North Carolinians don’t seem to be all about the green-without-red holidays. Except the college students, that is. And Easter’s so inconsistent. March one year. April the next. I’ve got my birthday in May, but there’s just this sad little lag between Valentine’s Day and summer. Those months could use some tinsel, wouldn’t you say? And August. Really? What is there to celebrate in August? As someone without school-aged children (or any children, for that matter), and who no longer pays tuition of any kind, August is just a dry, hot month with a whopping electric bill. I sure could use a gift exchange then.
At any rate, December, you’re still my favorite month of the year. And, yes, excess is part of your charm. So, I’ll go straighten my hair tonight and maybe experiment with purple tights and enjoy another evening of merrymaking with friends, all thanks to you. But, next year, let’s think about slowing it down just a bit, shall we? Thanks.
Love,
Erin
7 Comments
Yeah! This was so good! Again, what did I say about January. I mean we should have all the parties in January to show off our new clothes and play with our new toys together. Call me… I’ll be doing nothing… because December will be over.
Amen. For some reason, it seems that holiday parties are particularly excessive this year. Not that I mind a good party, but I’m finding myself to feel relatively UNsocial lately. Too bad we don’t have snowstorms in Wilmington, or I’d have a better excuse not to attend these frequent gatherings!
And leopard print heels, Erin? Sha-zam!
You should continue this series, send it in to journals. Loved it. E, you are too clever.
I may be inspired to write one to January – poor January; the red-headed step-child of the holidays. One blast at the beginning that either spells pandemonium or revelation for resolution-making or apocalypse-waiting folks. And those with January birthdays, well, folks are always too partied out for merriment, after all those holiday-bashes. And the poor girls, having to dress in stilettos and tinsel for New Years’ – they get sick at the dawn of the month, then complain that the month never ends. I love sweet January – its garnet gems and quit-smoking, lose 15 pounds, stop cussing & be a kinder, gentler person-resolutions, the ones that only last until noon on January 2.
that song! good gracious, me too. completely understand.
and, loved this post =) you should do more of these.
Erin, you are just so wonderful! If I were December, I would totally oblige. And I LOVE that you are wearing your heels.
Maybe we need to institute Christmas in July? That could be fun… I treat my birthday as if it is a holiday. If you’d like to, you can start celebrating it too.
You’re bringing those leopard print heels with you for Christmas, right? I hope so. Wear them with the purple tights, please. That would just be too shocking. I’d love it. Do you feel that as you get older, you get more… rebellious? I was just thinking the other day that I wasn’t very rebellious when I was younger, but the older I get, the more daring I become. Hmmm…
Amy: I will never forget the moment when you said, straight-faced, surrounded by all the festive people, “You know, January’s got the highest suicide rate.” Hi-lar-ious. We should definitely do a January party. If I make it to January…
Audrey: I know, I’ve felt the same way. And you’d think, with the recession and all, that the situation would be just the opposite. Denial, much?
Visha: You should start your blog in January, and that should be your first post. So funny!
Becki: Christmas in July sounds great! I will definitely bring the heels with me. The stockings were disappointingly too short. I’ve never been too tall for anything in my life. Except these tights. Which are not supposed to be for children. I don’t know what it is–I was on the low end of the height/weight suggestions for this size, and they aren’t too small in any way other than their height. Oh well…maybe they’ll stretch.