There are really a lot of good things about the South. For example, it has been sunny with highs in the low 70's every day since I got here. If I still lived here I would be whining about how un-Christmasy it is, but as a Seattle refugee I am all for a tropical holiday season.
Also, everyone here--every retail clerk, every oyster shucker, every kid at the convenience store--wishes you a Merry Christmas, and they sound like they mean it. I was convinced that the guy at the liquor store really hoped that the bottle of Maker's Mark I was purchasing would contribute to the joy of my holiday season. I feel confident that it will.
Christmas night is the annual mini-reunion party for all the punk rock kids I was friends with in high school. This year, Gay John and I will be holding down the non-married corner, which is okay. It's good to have Gay John in your corner; he makes snide comments in your ear about everyone else, right in front of them. Then when they ask what he's talking about he smiles sweetly and says, "We were just talking about how pretty you are."
Also this year, I will avoid the special brownies. Last year I failed to avoid the brownies, and that was a big, big mistake. I can handle my Maker's Mark just fine, but sometimes the baked goods turn on me.
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