Holiday Blues? Or Blahs?

I have the holiday blues. It doesn’t come as much of a surprise, I get them every year. I think it has something to do with the insane pace that leads up to the holidays. You work your ass off and then BAM! It’s a mad rush – to relax.

But does anyone really relax over the holidays? To me, it just seems like a lot of pressure. Pressure to get all of your shopping done (which for me happens in one day since I hate to shop), pressure to see your friends (which for me doesn’t usually happen because I end up getting sick over the holidays since my body finally slows down), and finally, pressure to be in love (which for me is usually the time I am not in love because I have spent all year dating and seem to shoot my wad by October). I’m pretty much always single at the holidays. And for some reason, the holidays are the only time I really wish I weren’t single.

Well, let’s be honest – maybe it’s more about holiday sex. Or at least kissing at the end of a countdown.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not having a pity party, I’m just waxing nostalgic. I mean, let’s take a look back, shall we? Ten years ago I was dating Mountain Man… He gave me a hideous bright yellow ski suit (I don’t ski). He told me he loved me for the first time on New Year’s Eve. I, after two bottles of champagne, told him, “Thank you.” That for some reason set the end of our relationship in motion.

Seven years ago I was dating The Brit. We gave each other engraved Tiffany key chains. After two bottles of champagne I told him that I loved him. He said, “Really? I didn’t think you cared that much because you’re always so easy going.”

Five years ago I was dating the Love of My Life. I didn’t need any alcohol to profess my love – I was stone cold sober crazy about the man. We were even talking marriage. We went on a fancy vacation and he showered me in pearls. But the phone call from his girlfriend kind of killed my Christmas. That – and I really hate jewelry. Especially pearls.

Two years ago I was dating the Hot Guy. I was truly having fun going to all the holiday parties in which I usually shun. It was just little ol’ me on the arm of Buzz Lightyear with his killer watt smile and charm that sucked in every man, woman and child from miles away. He didn’t have a lot of cash, but he made me a mix tape. I was happy – until I found out about his rap sheet a mile long. Ah, but he sure was cute.

Which leads me to this year: Extra Large Jerk is nowhere in sight, I’m in my skinny jeans, I have great friends, my family seems to be behaving at the moment, and my career goals are set in motion for the New Year.

Not so bad on paper. And I do have a date tomorrow night…

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