Notify, Holiday Edition

Greetings, merry makers. 

Here's hoping all the gheorghies are about done with the shopping and prepping and can start to hunker down, be around loves ones, and enjoy the festivities.

I myself am not close to that.

While my Christmas shopping has pretty much been done for a few days now, I decided to throw an open house on Christmas Eve for a few friends and family to pop by. As such, the scramble to buy and prepare food, beverage, and decorations goes on and on. My to-do list is still long and distinguished. 

Who knew that people would actually be available on December 24 for some nog and grog by the Yule log?

I failed to mention it to you, but all gheorghies are welcome. Last names and numerical indicators have been whited out, but if your sleigh is nearby, come on by.

Why would I subject myself to this overly hectic stress and rather steep expense?

I may have mentioned this more than once here, but this year I am spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Morning with my daughters for the first time since 2008. Divorce sucks any way you slice it, but this part has always been one of the worst components for me. I cannot overstate the seasonal depression that I inflicted on myself because of missing them in this 24-hour period year after year. It's just a night, just a morning, I know. But it has sucked not seeing the glee and awe in their faces from ages 6 and 8 through 17 and 19. 

But through a confluence of events, this year is different. And the three of us are thoroughly excited. Add in the Whitdog's superfun gf and we got ourselves a throwdown coming tomorrow night.

Grateful is not a string enough word. Ecstatic. So much so that I am grinning through all (most) to the nuisances to get things ready to sparkle tomorrow evening. I've had carols and holiday tunes on the Sonos speakers throughout the house for days. I bought a full-size tree for the first time in years. I've gone a bit overboard on gifts for the girls, and we're all wont to do now and again. And we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye.

Merry Christmas, friends. I love the gheorghie gang.

Such gratitude makes us want to pay it forward, or give a little back. It makes me think of an enormous outpouring one holiday season 37 years ago. Since you can't listen to the extended version (with Phil Collins crushing it on drums) on Spotify, here's a little Not-ify for you, Geldof style.

And here's the documentary on the making of this song, which is still my favorite holiday tune of them all, edging out Bing/Bowie's LDB and Dino doing Let It Snow³.

Peace, gheorghies.