When I was a kid, I was jealous of Kevin McCallister. I was jealous of his tree house, his ability to process things well beyond his age level and mostly jealous of the fact that he got to party his ass off alone on Christmas.
A day typically spent with family, Christmas is all about eating, laughing, fighting; doing family stuff – or if you’re the McCallisters, doing all this while in Paris. But for the last few years, instead of bearing the brunt of travails back home to Chicago, I’ve opted to stay put in New York and spend the day home alone.
It started by coincidence and travel planning procrastination, but ended up not being so bad. Instead of uncomfortable unwrapping, frequently horrendous travel conditions and over consumption of delicious yet unhealthy food, I sleep in, take my time, and always (even when home) go see a movie. Fortunately, I don’t get forced into setting copious amounts of traps to ward off would be home invasion types.
This year was no exception. After a morning of well wished calls, I hit the quiet streets and snapped a few photos, took a drive and topped it off with a movie (On the Road). Another Christmas in the books.
Spending Christmas alone isn’t for everyone, I get it. And I admit, it sounds lonely, but it’s become the one day a year where all I do is worry about what movie I’m going to see. It’s nice. But for everyone else out there, either alone or with loved ones, happy holidays (albeit a couple of days late), may your glasses stay full and Joe Pesci off your lawn.