I can't believe I'm doing this...

     ‘Tis the season to be jolly. I’m actually not. Shani not jolly? Is there such a thing? Well apparently there is. So deal. I’m not being emo (although many of you would attest to that. Please, all of us carry a little angst in our girly love ridden hearts). I’m supposed to be doing an assignment right now but I’m not really feeling it. Instead I’m sitting here thinking about Christmas, or lack thereof. You know, in all my daydreams, I always envisioned myself being alone like I am now. A strong independent figure that spends all my days solitary and thinking, creating and thriving. Taking long walks in the brisk winter air, stopping by bars to drink a pint or two, professionally, while my eyes gazed off in the distance and beautiful thoughts continued to circulate in my rosy-cheeked peach fuzzy daydream.

     Now that I’ve been alone in the middle of nowhere hundreds of miles from home, it isn’t that sweet. No. You get bored of walking in 2 days and hitting up bars by yourself sucks. In fact, watching the Glee Christmas special (yes, I do hate Glee but there’s not a lot of tv on Tuesdays), it made me feel sad. It made me realize how many people I always had around me during the season, and how much that isn’t a reality for so much of the population. Wow. This is sounding more like a life lesson than a self realization. It isn’t meant to be. But really, I mean every time I walk into the freaking Safeway I see these boxes of chocolates meant to be SHARED, or these huge vats of cookies or truffles or cakes and well....they’re all meant to be shared. A walk through the grocery store to pick up chicken (you know how I am about my chicken) listening to some Iron and Wine and the National turns out to be an emotional sobfest that usually results in me running to Maguires to raid through their beer fridges and bring me home some Keith’s (which may or may not involve me sneaking in a pint or three at the bar really fast). By myself. I always said the mark of an alcoholic was if I started drinking at home by myself. I swear I am not an alcoholic. Anyway, it’s not actually about the beer, the beer is a metaphor (a very nice warm metaphor in my gullet, of which I can throw back a lot of in a very short period). It’s about escapism, and I can’t seem to find my niche here yet.

     I feel like the Grinch. I never watched the movie but I think he was alone too. Wasn’t that the point of the movie? I’m not sure. All I know was that he was green. So keep your presents and give me your attention.  Join me for a walk, a smile, a poem. Watch Avatar (the Last Airbender, obviously) and Princess Mononoke late into the night as once Roch did, even though she hated it. That’s love. The “me” here is generic. Write someone an email. A facebook post. Do it. Make someone smile, especially someone you think that has it all. Turns out, they may need the pick me up more than you realize. 

Cheers!