It’s the most wonderful time of the year! Or something.

It’s December, which means the Christmas decorations, commercials, and everything else bright and shiny that I think has something to do with baby Jesus, are finally technically appropriate. It’s Christmastime! Wheee!

I guess.

The last couple years, I’ve been a bit of a Grinch. I’ve been pretty broke—okay, completely broke—which makes it difficult to do all the things I want to do for my family and friends (and fuck it, for me) at Christmas.

I had started a little tradition for myself back in Bloomington: After I do my Christmas shopping, I go home, put on Christmas Vacation and then Mariah Carey’s Christmas album, and start getting everything ready. Gift bags for my friends. Christmas cards (and Chrismakkuh cards, because not everyone celebrates Jesus and Santa and the Tooth Fairy!). Wrapping Dad and Jay’s presents.

It puts me in a great mood, even though Layla and Mufasa are trying to eat the wrapping paper, and even though I’m usually alone. And no, it’s not just because I brought home a fifth of Captain for my egg nog! It’s because I love Christmas! The season of giving! Hoorah!