[In which I type for 5 straight minutes stopping only when the timer goes ding]

Well, folks…it’s that time of year again. The time, where, in rapid succession, my birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas…happen.

That’s the key, I guess. All three are gonna happen, no matter what I think about it.

My birthday is a relative abstraction. Whatever. I’m in denial.

Thanksgiving is about eating until I pass out. That’s all good.

Christmas is…well, yay for Santa and Baby J and consumerism.

Does anyone else feel a looming panic? I’m not there yet. It’s just that I can see it whipping up on the horizon. This spate of grayrainmuddle isn’t helping.

I don’t like thinking I’ve gotten cynical about the holidays. I do love the decor. I love making the decor. But when it comes right down to it, if I’d never known about the Pilgrims, I’m sure I’d be a-ok.

As for my birthday, it’s a guess. An educated guess by a Korean doctor in a Korean hospital, but still. One year, a friend gave me a “Happy 50th” card, and it made me dance around in delight. The age thing – oh, don’t get me started. Just grateful I’m Asian. Woot.

What do people do