I had a Christmas of bubbles. Not Champagne but similarly to the global economy, of things I got all stretched out about that dissipated into nothing really.

It started with the grocery store. Realizing I needed to save money, I decided to shop for the holiday week as opposed to just Christmas dinner. This meant adding a few breakfasts and dinners to my shopping list last minute. The result was that I found myself  in a packed Whole Foods (gotta treat yourself at Xmas!) staring for almost thirty minutes at a frozen turkey trying to do mathematical acrobatics. Get the organic, vegetarian-fed twelve-pound turkey that I can reuse in sandwiches and soup for $147 and will feed 5 skinny people or get the $60 Cornish hens for Christmas dinner for six and eat spaghetti for the rest of the week?

Mock you not my simple plight, you who had holiday dinner cooked for you.

Then I couldn’t find fennel anywhere.

Then I couldn’t find a deep-dish pie pan. Which made my pumpkin more tart than pie.

Then I lost my cell-phone and all the numbers in it. Meanwhile, my mom thought I was forgetting to call her for Christmas so she held out on calling me just to show me, I guess. Christmas afternoon, a tarty pie, unresolved turkey dilemma, substituting dill and celery for fennel, and hadn’t spoken to anyone in my family, I sighed like the US economy.

So I got a whiskey and stared at my Christmas tree and remembered what Christmas is all about- the bright and shiny things already there. In other words, Christmas is about celebrating what you’re grateful for- just like every other damn holiday.

The food tasted good.

I liked my new earrings.

My husband is great.

The tree was pretty.

New Year’s on the other had, is about making a bunch of promises you can’t keep. In other words, blowing a bubble again so you can pop it next Christmas.

Ho ho ho!