
This is my first Christmas where I did not trek up north to stay with family. No, instead, I'm here in my studio apartment, preparing brunch for a friend who's arriving in an hour. I suppose this is my first non-Christmas. It's usually a very melancholy time of year for me, but not this year. No, this year I am blissfully alone, enjoying my records, my apartment, and the complete absence of expectation. (Afterall, isn't that the scourge of this holiday? Expecting some Norman Rockwell painting to be recreated in your parents' living room?) [...]