1:08 a.m. - 2003-12-21
Rescued by a grinch
I'm exhausted, my head is killing me, not from booze but from lack of medication, my feet hurt from dancing too much, I had stupid arguments with my parents today, and if I never see another piece of wrapping paper it'll be too soon, and about three hours ago, I was crabby as living hell. I didn't want anything to do with anyone, I was about ready to kill my parents, I blew off my very cute and adorable boyfriend for no reason other than being grouchy, and I basically was a big old pile of non-holiday spirit. All I wanted to do was go to bed and sulk.
But instead, I took my massive pile of presents, and I went to the party house. And the party house, they fixed me. They'd been wrapping presents all night - more than I had, even - and they too were singing the Christmas stress blues. So we sat on the couch, and we pulled on the blankets, and we watched Scrooged, and Rudolph, and the Grinch.
It took a lot of fortitude not to cry my eyes out, people. The end of Scrooged was bad enough. Rudolph, which I'd never actually seen before (blasphemy, I know), was just kind of weird, and I was mostly disturbed by the intolerant Santa and the reindeer, but the Grinch kills me every time.
And so, on a day that could have turned out full of grumbling and grouching, my heart grew THREE sizes. And suddenly I'm feeling much more inclined to be Christmassy.
Thanks, Mr. Grinch. Oh, and the party house, too.
