Ok, whoever wrote that song did not know my family, nor did they have 4 brothers+wives, 5 nieces, 4 nephews, parents, aunts, cousins and friends to buy presents for. Nor did they have a manic-depressive Sister-In-law that makes the thought of slowly clawing your eyes out a great alternative to turkey dinner.

It's that time of year again. I want to be happy. I want to be festive, but the last 30 years have taught me that I would be better off to take up drinking like the rest of the family. My Dad quotes this Yorgi Yorgesson (who?) tune from the 40's called "I yust go nutz at Christmas", in a screwed up Swedish accent every year, and every year we get to hear the story how Dad actually met good old Yorgi in some bar up North on one of his business travels. I still have no idea who the hell the guy is.

So now I will begin the jousting festival at the mall with the masses. I usually love shopping. I live for it, but it makes my blood run cold right now. I've decided to make it even that much more fun by travelling down to Seattle on Sunday for a little extra something. The dollar is strong against the US and there are definitely a lot more choices (or maybe just 'different ones'). Somehow now my Mother has decided she'd like to tag along. She and I do not shop well. She looks for bargains. I prefer the 'Magpie Method' (Oh, look, it's shiny and pretty, I must have it, ching ching).

Sister-In-Law from Hell has decided it's her year to feed us. I had really hoped to have it here but now that she has thrown the gauntlet down, we will traipse across town for dinner of dry turkey and invitably burnt vegetables. Then, the wine will flow, the rellies will get drunk. The nephews will go outside for a 'walk', but oddly come back all glassy eyed. And then SIL will take offense to some slight (last time, it was me taking a picture of my nephews, go figure) and will cry and yell and rant and call us all ungrateful for coming to her house and eating her food. It's textbook. It's happened every time. Of course, my Mom pointed out today that she was good in 1995. Ok, once and that was only because my Uncle had died 5 days before Christmas and trumped her bad mood.

Apparently, I'm jaded. I wish I could muster up some excitement, but the whole holiday just seems to wear thin. It's a lot of money for people I see once or twice a year and I usually end up feeling very alone and out of place.

At least it only comes once a year, I guess.