There are two sides of Christmas, or at least for me. One that always fills me with nostalgia, excitement and happy, giggly feelings, the usual reaction brought about by those announcements of so-so number of days before Christmas. And the other is that the thought of Christmas also fills me with a certain kind of dread and tomorrow will be the culmination of the dreadful feeling.
Other than the heavy traffic that litters every street in the Metro, the countless heads that wander around in malls trying to look for that perfect, useless gift and the long list of expenses usually associated with Christmas, other than these, Christmas is almost perfect.
Almost.
One rain cloud hanging over Christmas usually spells R-E-L-A-T-I-V-E-S.
Yes, those relatives that you, I mean, we have to get along with, exchange pleasantries with, and sometimes, be obligated to give gifts to, are what I'm dreading about Christmas. Usually, I dread and fear the onslaught of questions regarding my single blessedness at this ripe old age of late twenties, but it's few and far in between. So I breathed a sigh of relief afterwards. I spent Christmas day holding my breath and I wonder when can I relax, really relax, on Christmas day.
Tomorrow I'll be spending it again with relatives. My sister and cousin got married this year and my last remaining single cousin is planning to, I supposed. I, the goddess that I am, am the only one left without a boyfriend, and without plans of getting married. If they have a field day teasing me with an already sensitive topic for me, I'll not be responsible for being impolite to my elders.
Oh well.
Before I turn Scrooge again, right before your very eyes, I'd better stop writing and end my blog entry right about here and now...
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