When I started writing this, it was in the wee hours of Christmas Eve Eve, when the nerdy kids are checking NORAD’s Santa Tracker, the kids that bully those kids are starting to sweat a little, and I’m enough cocktails in that I’ve just started throwing some new combinations together in this gently used coupe glass while watching Psych reruns. Did you know that peppermint schnapps can go in more than hot chocolate? Like for example, whiskey. A few dashes of chocolate bitters go a long way, too. Yeah, that orange peel from a gin cocktail hours ago adds something. ANYHOODLES….
For some reason, despite how FREAKING LONG this 3 day work week has felt and how much work I know I need to do before Monday beckons the semites and antisemites alike back to their zoom meetings, I find myself thinking about–and therefore writing about–Christmas.
If you’re perceptive, you likely know that I’m a J-O-O.
The stereotype goes that I should be celebrating every Christmas with Chinese food and a movie, possibly while tightening the grip on the banks. HOWEVA, we never did that growing up, and I don’t think I did that for the first time until my late twenties. I get the logistical appeal but don’t quite associate chow mein with December.
Growing up, we actually celebrated Christmas (and Chanukah), but without any religious basis for the former. My mom just loved the festivity, so we did the whole shebang–a tree, stockings, hell, we even had a goose and/or a ham, but no church. It wasn’t until I started asking the tough questions–“hey, we’re Jewish, why the fuck are we doing this?” that we ditched the regalia (much to my siblings’ chagrin) and retreated to the “normal” for those that don’t believe that Mary was a virgin.
It’s funny, though, because whether you believe in Santa as a kid or not, and if you put up a Christmas Tree (or a Hanukkah Bush) or not, if you aren’t Christian, you still feel like you’re missing…something on Christmas.
And then there’s Christmas 2020. It’s hard enough to know what fucking day of the week it is, let alone to note the demarcation of a holiday you don’t observe. When the house is decorated with a tree, people baking more types of cookies than Trump’s acts of treason, and non-LDB Xmas music blasting, you know it’s the season. When you’re not….you don’t.
But even if you don’t celebrate, it’s worth taking a pause and trying out a tradition (even if it isn’t your own). We finished up lighting the menorah last week, but we’re still going to do some gift opening with the nieces and nephews via zoom this week. I took a stab at making these abominations today, and hell, we may even order Chinese food tomorrow to fit in with our ancestral people. The important part is to find a way to slow the fuck down and have something that’s yours/your family’s/whatever you need. ESPECIALLY this year.
And btw, if you are alone on Christmas, that’s cool, too. I found this thread really interesting/positive, and it isn’t too late to still celebrate Christmas and/or yourself by yourself tomorrow. So if it’s your first Christmas or your 40th or your first alone, crack open a beer, throw open the door, and enjoy the holidays!
![[DOOR FLIES OPEN]](https://doorfliesopen.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/DFO-MC-Patch.png)





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