Festivity

It has begun.

The malls have promoted it for weeks now; no matter where you go, red & green are prevalent. My holiday calendar is quickly filling up, with tree trimming parties (mine), birthday parties (others’), charity events (cute date), and the like being penciled (ok, stylused) into each tiny electronic square in my Clio (which, incidentally, I’ve yet to really figure out how to use.) It’s exciting, it really is, and despite my aforementioned hectic schedule, I can’t wait to don my dressy duds and hit the town.

There’s something special about the holidays – even in the midst of a twinge of melancholy that I’ve felt as of late, things somehow seem lighter. My mind, my heart, is lighter. Perhaps it’s the gold threads in my holiday skirt, or perhaps the chiffon in another. Maybe it’s the brown faux fur coat I got the other day which will match perfectly with the smokey topaz dangling earrings that Pam made me for my birthday. Or it could be good times, good (and new) friends, good spirits. I’d probably liken it to a combination of all of them, and yet whatever it is, I’m embracing it. I’m ready for something new, for some excitement, for some cheer, holiday or otherwise.

Because, really, I just ordered some mistletoe, and I’ve got a feeling it’s going to come into good use.

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