The calendar according to Starbucks
Liza helpfully alerts me that peppermint mochas are back on the menu at Starbucks, which clearly signals the official start to the holiday season.
I do not believe it will be possible for this Christmas to be worse than last year's suicidal death horrorshow era, which I remember now as a blur of Zoloft, weeping, drinking heavily, not unpacking, not eating and having not-quite-sex with a vast array of men. (Oh, The Hotness of Gerard: How I miss you.) So clearly, Christmas (or its holiday equivalent) is something to celebrate. Inspired by Liza, I will send out Christmas (or equivalent) cards this year for the first time in two years, so please post or e-mail me your address if you'd like one.
It is entirely possible, however, that I will get drunk and said card will read something
Dearest Gary
I know that your job as a builder is very different from mine. But I really respect that, because it is a real craft. You make things with your hands and get up very early in the morning and together - even though the infill extension isn't finished - we have built something great and beautiful together, as a team, two different people, and even though the hole in the wall is still there - after a whole year! - I can see the growth of the project through it. Which is wonderful.
I feel very close to you now. Both as a craftsman. And a man. And if anyone deserves joy and a real creative change in the coming year it is you.
With love, Bridget
Or this:
'My dear, dear Nigel' - he began - 'I know we have only met once. But now it is Christmas, I realise, through being Mark's closest colleague, you have in a strange way been close to me all year too. I feel' - he paused and gave me a look - 'very close to you now. I know you have had a hard year with Frances leaving, but always remember you are a lovely man: attractive' - "This, I remind you, is Nigel we're talking about" - 'vigorous, brilliant creatively, because being a lawyer is actually a very creative job, so lots of girls would like to go out with you instead of Frances. In fact' - he started laughing - 'in fact, if I wasn't going out with Mark, I would probably like to go out with you myself.
Merry Christmas, dearest Nigel.
Bridget'