| Deep Fried Love |
| Festivus For The Rest Of Us |
| by Laurel Miller |
| Once upon a time, when I was young and starry-eyed and innocent, I lived for Christmas. Which isn’t that unusual for a kid, but given that I am technically, ethnically, Jewish, I guess it could be construed as bit odd. We always “celebrated” Christmas as a family, rather than a religious, holiday: a time to deck the house out, have a big dinner, get together with extended family, and open a butt load of presents. |
Then one day, I decided to pursue a culinary career. This meant that Christmas- and every other holiday of note-, as I knew it was Over. After that first year of working the holiday season, I was done with Christmas. It’s just a day. A day that, if you have kids or a partner, and happen to be Christian or just Holiday Season-inclined, is best spent eating a huge, decadent meal, exchanging a few meaningful gifts, and enjoying the togetherness. Regardless of what holiday you choose to acknowledge during the holiday season, the point is that it’s considered a travesty if you aren’t out there celebrating it with someone you’re related to or sleeping with.
The thing is, it’s not worth getting bent out of shape or refilling your Prozac prescription if you happen to be single or working or can’t get away to visit your loved ones. It’s just a day, dammit. Since my work schedule or a boyfriend’s work schedule or an anorexic bank account or inclement weather has prevented me from spending many a holiday with my family, I developed my own ritual. I eat dim sum. Years of living in the Bay Area meant that I had easy access to the city’s many dim sum restaurants, which are always open on major holidays. For me, Christmas is a day to chuck any guilt I may harbor about being totally unproductive and useless, go for a hike if the weather is decent, and then have a dim sum feast. What’s strange is that I’ve since discovered that other single friends or couples who eschew the increasingly commercialized Season of Enforced Spending also go for dim sum. Maybe it’s because we all lived in the Bay Area, but whatever the reason, picking up a pair of chopsticks seems to be the anti-holiday antidote of choice.
My main issue with the holidays is that the wholesome spirit of the season is lost in an ever-widening sea of consumerized crap. Sure, it’s a great excuse to get dressed up and get drunk with friends and co-workers, which is usually a good time, but the emphasis on sharing quality time with loved ones is lost. It’s great to give a well-thought out, meaningful gift- even if it’s homemade. But with so much pressure to spend and buy and give and provide a gift, no matter how pointless or tacky or impersonal….why bother? My friends and I have a no-gifting policy just on principle, to avoid that kind of stress. It doesn’t mean we love each other any less.
The other holiday conundrum for those without significant others comes from a bizarre societal mandate that assumes if we spend our holidays alone, we are to be pitied. We might slash our wrists if we are forced to spend a crucial holiday like Christmas alone, and therefore it is better to invite us to attend intimate family gatherings of others- even if they barely know us. The other night, I was having dinner with a group of people I didn’t know. The hostess was a new acquaintance of mine, and she had invited me to a dinner party because I was new to the area. Mid-meal, the very nice couple seated next to me asked what I was doing for the holidays. I said that I was going to eat dim sum because I couldn’t take time off to spend it with my family. They looked at one another in horror, and then the female half of the couple gently put her hand on mine and invited me to spend Christmas with them.
While I was genuinely touched by the offer and their selfless generosity, I also had to squelch the urge to explain that I didn’t mind spending the day alone, and in fact was looking forward to my annual dim sum feed. I genuinely enjoy quality alone time, and the idea of spending a family holiday with total strangers made me uncomfortable for both of our sakes. I thanked them and said I’d take it under consideration, trying to ignore their looks of concern.
The holidays mean different things to different people, and there’s no right or wrong way to celebrate them (unless it’s passed out naked under a table with a lampshade over your head…more than once). But spending them alone doesn’t make you a huge loser, a crazy cat lady/man in the making, or an introverted freak. What is makes you is someone who doesn’t let a day on the calendar make them feel bad. Pass the chopsticks. |
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