I am happy to report that my first Christmas sans family was not a miserable lonely affair. It was actually rather low-key and nice. It occurred to me today that, quite by accident, I engaged in a number of my favorite activities.
1. Sleeping late
Some of my friends with more grown-up lives were awakened at the crack of dawn by their Santa-believing youngsters. Not I. I slept in till 11:30am. It was fantastic. There are few things I love more than sleeping. I am a varsity sleeper. This is apparently normal according to my zodiac/astrology chart -- those born on March 1 "need a lot of sleep because they have especially active dream lives." So true and so great to have a sort-of-legit-but-not-really-"scientific"-explanation for my penchant to spend half the day in bed.
2. Cooking
I made myself a fancy breakfast from some leftover stuff in my fridge. I considered attempting my first omelet, but didn't want to risk failure on Christmas, so I opted instead for the frittata route. I wilted some spinach in garlic and oil, added gorgonzola, and folded it into my eggs. YUM.
3. Muppets
After "breakfast" (which was consumed around 12:30), I cuddled up with Maude to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol. I hadn't watched it in years and it was so heartwarming! The scene where Piggy (Mrs. Cratchett) and Kermit (Bob Cratchett) are mourning the loss of Tiny Tim actually made me cry. Also, kudos to Michael Caine for his sincere and committed portrayal of Scrooge -- it's as though he's not even aware his costars are made of felt.
4. Chinese food
Since coming back from China, I haven't eaten much Chinese food. After consuming nothing but for almost a month, I was a little burned out. But I rediscovered my love for the cuisine last night at The Golden Temple in Brookline. I finally experienced the Jewish tradition of Chinese food on Christmas. The place was a madhouse, already packed at 5:30 pm. Fortunately, my friends had reserved ahead; otherwise we would have had to take our chances at some sketchy hole in the wall joint like Lucky Wah. If all you want for Christmas is food poisoning, Lucky Wah is your jam. Or as one Yelper eloquently put it, "Lucky Wah doesn't just make you feel a little iffy. It makes you feel like death incarnate. Like you've been immersed in so much salt that you could be stuffed into a barrel and consumed by New World-bound Puritans."
Fortunately, Golden Temple uses very fresh ingredients and no MSG. The crispy green beans with garlic were phenomenal and will probably haunt my dreams.
5. Going to the movies
I went to see Hugo and while the 3D gave me a slight headache, it was the perfect movie to see on Christmas. Well-made, beautiful to look at, good story, and 3D effects that actually enhanced the film.
6. Drinking craft cocktails in a swanky lounge
I finished off the night at the newly opened bar, The Hawthorne, located in the Hotel Commonwealth. My friend is a bartender there, so I stopped in to say hello and sip their high-class version of eggnog, The Flip Royale, made with ginger liquor, rooibos tea-infused simple syrup, soda water and a raw egg. (You can watch it being made here.) I also had something called The Bishop, which is basically a rum sour topped off with red wine. Yes, weird-sounding, but surprisingly delicious.
So that's how I spent my Christmas. Not too shabby. I did miss my family, but I spoke to them all on the phone and will see some of them soon in the New Year.
To wrap it up, I invite you to bask in the awesome glory of my rather large Christmas tree and my rather large cat.
Just because a movie happens to take place in December and/or reference Christmas in some oblique way doesn't make it a Christmas movie. For example, David Fincher's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which I saw yesterday. The film begins on Christmas Eve and ends right around Christmas one year later. It's set in Sweden so there's lots of snow. BUT MAKE NO MISTAKE -- it's NOT a Christmas movie. Murder and rape cannot be in a Christmas movie. Santa would not approve.
Now, my cable provider, Comcast, would like me to believe that any movie with any sort of minor holiday/December tie-in counts as a Christmas movie. Let's take a look at some of the films they recommend under their Holiday category (which is subdivided into Yuletide Comedies, Christmas Classics, Festive Family Faves, Holiday Romance and Holiday Action):
Batman Returns
Ok, I haven't seen this since it came out in the early 90s, but its genre is obviously superhero/action. Does Batman save Christmas in Gotham City? No.
Die Hard
Yes, it's set at Christmas. Yes, there is some Christmas music in it. And this famous shot, of course:
Still, it's violent and people get killed. I'm pretty sure that takes it out of holiday film contention.
Trading Places
I love this movie; it's one of my favorites. Eddie Murphy as con artist Billy Ray Valentine is pure comedy gold. But I don't think Christmas affects the plot much -- yes, seeing Dan Ackroyd drunkenly crash his former company's Christmas party dressed up Santa and stuffing an entire salmon down his suit is funny, but the movie doesn't demand to be viewed at Christmas. If you wanted to watch Trading Places over the summer, it would be fine. If you suggested watching Miracle on 34th Street or A Christmas Story in a month other than December, it would be very, very weird.
Fargo
Seriously? A man's body gets stuffed into a wood chipper.
Little Women
It's a heartwarming movie, but it spans many years and months. If this counts as a Christmas movie, Gone With the Wind might as well be considered one as well since Christmas, you know, happens over the course of the film.
Basically, for a movie to be a Christmas movie, it can't really be watched any other time. Christmas has to feature prominently in the plot -- the central conflict or source of comedy must be related to Christmas (Will Ferrell thinks he's an elf! The Griswolds' horrible in-laws are all staying at their house over Christmas and Clark's Christmas bonus hasn't arrived! etc).
Oh, and no one can be brutally murdered, unless they are killed by a serial killer who dresses up like Santa, like in Christmas Evil (which was originally titled You Better Watch Out):
I've been feeling very adult/grown-up lately. Why? Because for the first time, I am not spending the holidays with family. I'm not traveling anywhere, in fact. I'm staying at home, alone. I will wake up Christmas morning in my apartment, accompanied only by my cat. There will be no long security lines or checked baggage fees, no relatives, no drama, no binge drinking, no emotional eating. Well, there might be some of those last two.
It's not that I don't like visiting family -- it's just that holiday visits are always fraught with tension for one reason or another. The idea of an anxiety-free holiday is very foreign to me, but some people tell me they exist. I didn't intentionally boycott the family holiday; it's just that as the winter months approached, it seemed less and less feasible for me to get the time off from work and afford the overpriced plane tickets. Plus, I have a bonafide family vacation to look forward to in January, after the chaos of Christmas: my brothers and I will be joining my mom and stepdad in the Cayman Islands for a week of sun, relaxing, and rum punch. So don't feel too sorry for me.
Thanksgiving usually finds me in St. Louis, with that chunk of family (Dad, 2 brothers, stepmom), but this year, I chose instead to fly to Pittsburgh and spend the day with my best friend Al, who's getting her master's in conducting at Carnegie-Mellon. She invited two other friends to join us and we had an unconventional-but-delightful vegetarian Thanksgiving that included chili, wild mushroom and chestnut stuffing, swiss chard, spinach and cheddar casserole, homemade cranberry plum sauce (my family always cheats with store-bought) and chocolate, pecan & whiskey pie (my aunt's recipe). It was awesome and the only stressful moment occurred when we realized we had to get to a liquor store before 9pm on Wednesday in order to have Thanksgiving booze. (Crisis averted -- a Thanksgiving without turkey, I could handle. One without wine, perhaps what I'm most thankful for, would have been a different story).
Initially, I planned to go to New York and hang with some Jewish friends on December 25, but since I have to work Christmas Eve and can't bear the thought of spending 4 hours on a smelly bus on Christmas Day, I've now decided to just stay in Boston. I have a few friends who will be around. It will be quiet and subdued, I'm sure. But that's ok. I have enough excitement at other times that I'm actually looking forward to a little solitude. All the loud, obnoxious BU students will be home for the holidays and Allston will be a peaceful, civilized neighborhood for a few weeks. That may be the greatest gift of all.
...and my apartment is DECKED OUT. I have a lot of decorations, none of which I purchased for myself. Such is the benefit of having a holiday-obsessed mother who has sent me about three boxes worth of Christmas stuff, ranging from semi-creepy Dickensian carolers...
to vintage bottle-brush trees:
As for my tree this year, well, there's really only one way to describe it: FIERCE.
I mean, it's fucking beautiful, right? It fits perfectly between my desk and shoe rack. I bought and decorated it on Sunday, while sipping Trader Joe's chocolate-flavored eggnog. Then I watched Holiday Inn and cried at the end, like I always do.
I own three Christmas movies: Holiday Inn, White Christmas, and a very special film that I have never seen, but plan to watch this year. Christmas Evil.
It's about a serial killer who dresses up like Santa and wants to "give everyone the presents they deserve...even if that means giving the gift of MURDER!"
Very excited to watch this. I mean, I love Halloween and I love Christmas. Clearly I will love this film. Maybe even as much as I love this:
As one YouTube commenter noted, "Gotta love the Muppets for recognizing that this song is about attempted rape."
Happy holidays, everybody! It's Christmas Eve, my mother's favorite day of the year (because Christmas is ALMOST here but not quite...Christmas Day she describes as "bittersweet." And the day after Christmas? Don't even go there.)
I'm in Colorado, with my Christmas-obsessed mom and stepdad. It's snowing and we are listening to festive music (my mom is particularly fond of the holiday albums put out by Josh Groban, Jane Monheit, and Diana Krall) while prepping the stuffing for tomorrow's traditional goose dinner. Yes, we always make a Dickensian feast on Christmas Eve: goose + stuffing + mashed potatoes + green beans + cranberry relish. My mom and I spend most of the day cooking and sipping wine, while our favorite movie, Gone with the Wind, plays in the background. Yes, I know, GWTW is not technically a Christmas movie, but there is a Christmas scene, ok? (when Ashley comes home for Christmas and impregnates Melanie)
Christmas Day also has several key meals: cinnamon rolls and coffee before gift-opening, mimosas, bagels with cream cheese and lox afterward, prime rib (encrusted in salt, pepper, rosemary, and garlic) for dinner. While the prime rib is in the oven, we watch It's a Wonderful Life. Every family has holiday rituals -- my family's just happen to center around food, wine, and movies. I'm not complaining, but if you see me in early January and I look a little more rotund than usual, you will know why.
If you celebrate Christmas, merry Christmas...otherwise, happy holidays and best wishes for 2010!
my mom's cat, Sparky, modeling his Christmas collarand enjoying his favorite game, Cat in a Box
The other night, I watched a classic Christmas movie: Holiday Inn, starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire. Though I've seen it a dozen times, this always catches me off-guard:
Yep, that's crooner Bing Crosby, in full-on blackface. He's singing an Irving Berlin song called "Abraham" about Abe Lincoln's birthday that contains lyrics such as "When black folks lived in slavery/ Who was it set the darkie free?/ Abraham, Abraham!"
PROBLEMATIC. And the only actual black people in the movie?
That's Louise Beavers, playing (isn't it obvious?) "Mamie" and her two kids.Mamie is the all-purpose housekeeper/cook at the Holiday Inn.Obviously.
Sigh. I love Holiday Inn -- it features the first ever performance of "White Christmas," one of my favorite Christmas songs. There are lots of great dance numbers, not one but TWO love triangles, and plenty of glamorous 1940s evening wear.
And yet....
It's just hard to get past this, you know? The blackface is a part of the plot -- Bing Crosby adds it to the number at the last minute so that Fred Astaire's character won't be able to recognize Marjorie Reynolds (pictured above), with whom he drunkenly danced on New Year's Eve and wants to steal away from Crosby's Holiday Inn gig.
But still....yeesh. Racism kind of kills my Christmas spirit.
Below please find a short list of things I'd like to receive this Christmas. I have been very good this year...well, excepting the fact that I stopped going to yoga two months ago. Staying in shape is expensive, Santa! Anyway, do your best. I realize some of these things may be more easy to acquire than others.
I am a big fan of Christmas music. On my iPod, I have a playlist with 70+ holiday songs on it, from artists as diverse as Judy Garland and Bing Crosby to Mariah Carey and the Muppets. And it occurs to me that pretty much all Christmas songs fit into one of three cateogories: dirty, depressing, and stupid/juvenile.
Dirty Christmas carols, you ask? Whatever do you mean? My stepdad is responsible for pointing this first example out to me. Take a gander at the lyrics to "Santa Claus Got Stuck in my Chimney," which was originally recorded by Ella Fitzgerald in 1960:
Santa Claus got stuck in my chimney Stuck in my chimney, stuck in my chimney Santa Claus got stuck in my chimney When he came last year.
There he was in the middle of my chimney Roly-poly, fat and round There he was in the middle of my chimney Not quite up and not quite down
Santa please come back to my chimney Back to my chimney, back to my chimney Santa please come back to my chimney You can come back here.
Wow, right? The song takes the vagina-as-chimney metaphor really far.
I also think the allegedly innocent "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" is open tomyriad interpretations. I know that we're supposed to assume that what the kid sees (andmisunderstands) is his dad dressed up as Santa and his mom kissing his dad. But I alwaysthink about the other possibility-- that dad is upstairs asleep while mom is playing tonsil hockey with the 19-year-old mall Santa. Or I imagine another verse -- where after Mommy kisses and tickles Santa, things progress to less PG-13-rated events. "Then I saw Mommy fellating Santa Claus..."
"Santa Baby," about a greedy woman who wants the deed to a diamond mine and a new caramong other things, also has a naughty feel to it...though I think the song would be awesome if sampled in a remix of Kanye West's "Gold-Digger." You know, to give it more contemporary relevance.
The second category, the Depressing Songs, is where all my favorites are. I like my pop culture super sad, as is evidenced by my love of Richard Yates and Patsy Cline.Songs like "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and "White Christmas" play up the more emotionally confusing part of Christmas-- the moments where, after too much spiked eggnog, you start thinking about Christmases past and get nostalgic about ex-lovers and dead relatives.
The mother of all depressing Christmas songs is of course the oft-covered "Have Yourselfa Merry Little Christmas." The history of the song, which was written for the film Meet Me in St. Louis, is quite fascinating and even has its own Wikipedia page. Now the lyrics seem tame, but the original lyrics? Wrist-slitting material. Check it out:
Have yourself a merry little Christmas It may be your last Next year we may all be living in the past
Have yourself a merry little Christmas Pop that champagne cork Next year we may all be living in New York
No good times like the olden days Happy golden days of yore Faithful friends who were dear to us Will be near to us no more
But at least we all will be together If the Lord allows From now on, we'll have to muddle through somehow So have yourself a merry little Christmas now
See what I mean? Now we sing about hanging stars on shiny boughs and all that bullshit. When really, the song is about "muddling through" life. Pass the schnapps!
Finally, the stupid/juvenile carols. I HATE THESE. Examples include "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer" and "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth." These songs really should just disappear from holiday anthologies. Now, all of the above examples are fairly old songs -- but contemporary recording artists are attempting to add to the Christmas canon. A few years ago, Newsong came out with whatmight be the worst Christmas song of all time: The Christmas Shoes.
I mean, it's so awesomely bad that it's almost good. Almost.
This holiday season, I saw that Aretha Franklin had put out her first album of Christmas songs, so I decidedto buy it for my mom. We listened to it in the car after she picked me up from the airport.And were immediately flabbergasted. The album panders to the most stereotypical images of a down-home Southern Christmas.In between songs, Aretha talks about chittlins. Seriously. I'm not even black and I'm offended.
The final track is Aretha reading a special adaptation of "Twas the Night Before Christmas." Her version makes references to her "bro" and her "diddy" (which prompted my mother to ask, "What's a 'diddy'?") and instead of waiting up for Ol' St. Nick, Aretha is waiting for her new man to arrive. When he does show up, she runs him out of the house for not bringing adequate gifts. As he exits, instead of shouting "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night," he yells, "You'se one hell of a woman, 'Retha!"
Download it if you don't believe me.
Happy holidays, everyone -- I encourage you to sing till you're blue (red? green?) in the face and try to follow to paradoxical advice offered in "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree," namely to dance merrily in "the new old-fashioned way." Good luck with that.
