Christmas wasn't so bad this year.
Those who watch my vlog already know I was a bit out of sorts leading up to the 'big day'. Mostly because, I've never had a good Christmas. Also because this was the first year I didn't actually have any dinner plans. What I suspected, turned out to be true. The apprehension I felt about not having anyone to eat my feast with came from how I was raised. I thought I needed to be with friends and family for this occasion, but that's not the case at all. This feeling of obligation spurred from what I thought I was supposed to be doing.
I was wrong. What a shocker. The night, though uneventful by most people's standards, was in fact very peaceful. More peaceful than the last ten Christmases. The truth is, after the year I've had, it was really nice to hole up with the dog and cat and simply exist.
Here is a rather boringly spectacular account of what I did. In the morning, I dropped off some gifts at my ex's place and let him see the hound. Afterwards, I made my way over to my sister's house for a couple of hours where I spent some time with my siblings. At about three, I returned home to take a rather festive nap. Then I cooked up a delicious Tofurkey.
Yes, that's a turkey made out of tofu. And, despite what you may think, it is fairly tasty. I think meat-eaters the world over just cringed. Well, it doesn't matter. I enjoyed it. Besides, my meal ended up looking pretty.
After dinner, I had some pie. Apple pie, in case you wanted to know. I honestly can't remember the last time I had a piece of pie. Granted, I didn't have anyone to feed it to while sitting around in my knickers, but the thought was still there. The knickers and guest would have only made this a bit better, seeing as I pictured him naked. But that's my dirty mind going into overtime.
In the evening, I did something I've never done before. No, not something naughty, I wish! As I settled down in front of the fireplace and cracked a book that I should have read years ago. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.
The story is one we all know. We've seen the movies and heard the tale, but I wonder how many people have actually read it. In some ways, it's like the story of Jesus' birth. Everyone knows it, but so few have read the words themselves. Just between the two of us, or however many are reading this blog, I ponder over whether the book would have made it to publication if submitted today. I think not, but it is a classic, and one I encourage others to read.
To put a nice cap on the night, I hunkered down and watched The Muppet's Christmas Carol, which actually remained very close to the original story. After that, I retired. I mean, how can one person possibly stay awake after such a rip-snorting good time. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of someone near and dear to my heart, but simply is not here with me. Once I sent them a little love, I curled up under my blanket and ended what will now be known as my first, but probably not my last, Independent Christmas.