Black and White Christmas
If I start writing that I don’t like Christmas I immediately imagine one of a few reactions amongst the reader, possibly leading those who are just scanning for interest to leave at this point. The hardest to take of these reactions is more of a withering look which I take to mean something like “you’re trashing something sacred to me”. No one says this but I see it on their faces and it pains me because I don’t want to poop their party. In fact more than that – I actually want to be invited to their party – have a few drinks and share some of that feeling that we’re all celebrating together. This really confuses people. Because the minute I tell them I don’t like Christmas they organise me in their minds so as not to offend my over-sensitive killjoy-ness and try to avoid mentioning anything festive in my presence. At least until next year when they will have forgotten. The thing is – like all of the things – it’s more complex than that. When I think about it – I imagine tha...