Monday, December 23, 2013
Christmas Eve Eve
Christmas Eve Eve is, in my opinion, one of the best days of the year. The divinum mysterium and enforced magic hush of Christmas Eve hasn't started yet; there is no plummy intoning of the Festival of Lessons and Carols from the BBC, no "Lo, the angel said to Mary," and you are still 48 hours away from the waterfall of joy, disappointment and tape that is Christmas morning.
It's also Festivus, and lord knows I love a made-up television holiday that involves an unornamented pole as its centerpiece and the airing of grievances (hallelujah...finally, a religion that gets me), plus feats of strength. You know how well I do both juggle and bitch.
To make Festivus really cook I would add: errands. All the worst errands, like paying fines for overdue children's books with humiliating names like Harold The Farting Dog, making appointments with the pediatric orthodontist, adjusting a health insurance co-pay, mammography, and getting last minute tchotchkes in the mail for distant cousins.
And it goes without saying there should be a long-ass German word that begins with a capital letter for the action and emotion of having to to do these things.