introduction.

today has been a long day. it's the day after thanksgiving, and the majority of the country is out waiting in lines and spending the average $350 at big box retailers and eating dinner at tgi friday's. since i'm not spending ANY money today, that means someone else is picking up the slack. good for them. i hope their kid/spouse/parent is happy with their elmo doll/home appliance/book.

so instead of blowing my meager discretionary income at national chain marts, i make soup stock from the carcass of yesterday's turkey. i really enjoy making soups, and frequently find myself out of any sort of broth or stock and have to resort to bouillon cubes, which: EW. it works in a pinch but if i have access to the real thing, i'll take it. i guess some people might thing it's lame to be spending the day after thanksgiving this way, but i generally like to play things low-key.

the thing is...it's generally pretty sucky to be spending the holidays alone. i know, so clichéd, right? poor single girl/guy sitting at home alone during the holidays, feeling sorry for herself/himself. but if you've ever been there, you might know what i mean. personally, winter (or christmas, more specifically) has always been a time of the year that i spend with family or loved ones, and if i happen to be single, it almost seems like winter is colder somehow.

for as much as i can't stand mass consumerism and the "keeping up with the joneses" mentality of most americans, it really does get to me sometimes. permit me to explain: i remember hearing a quote once, but i'm not sure where - "the majority of our unhappiness is the result of comparing ourselves to others." i've always tried not to do this, and i've been fairly successful. i have friends who are very financially successful, and when they buy a new house or a new car, i'm not jealous. i could probably go that route too, but i've been honest with myself and admitted that i'm really not that ambitious. my friends put in long, stressfull hours at work, and don't even have time to enjoy what money they are making. perhaps i'm just lazy, but the trade-off just isn't worth it for me.

when it comes to relationships, however, it's a bit of a different story. wait, let me back up a second, because that statement makes me sound like i'm a jealous bitch whenever i see a happy couple. not true. i am genuinely happy when i see my friends and family happy. my sister is getting married next year, and i'm really glad that she finally found someone to put up with her that treats her so well. (sorry, obligatory sibling gibe.) when my two friends finally (!) got together, i was, and am, happy for them. they're well-suited for each other, and i hope they'll be together for a long time.

the problem for me is that combining singlehood and the holiday season pretty much makes both of them shittier to varying degrees. something else that i've admitted to myself is that while i'd like to believe that i don't need anyone (because my feminist instincts tell me so), i feel like i'm missing a part of myself sometimes. knowing that just about every other person i know is out and about spending the holidays with their Other Half - dear god, whoever popularized that stupid term should die a long, slow death - makes it that much more intolerable to be around them.

so, as we speak, my sister and fiancé are out with my parents on some sort of "double date" i guess. my other sister and her family are driving home from his parents' house in the midwest. my friends (the two who took an interminably long time to hook up) are up visiting one of their parents' homes while i take care of their pets.

i am the quintessential Single Girl: i take care of pets while friends or family are out of town because i'll never go out of town for the holidays. i go to events by myself because everyone is doing things with their significant other. i go through drive-thrus because dining alone is the scariest thing imaginable (you can't go to the bathroom, because they'll clean your table!).

alone. and yes, lonely. maybe even "rone-reee," thanks to the satirization of kim jong-il. being reminded of that stupid (albeit funny) song makes my loneliness feel even more pathetic.

so i decide to take a nap because i'm tired, and when i wake up, go outside and sit in the hot tub for long enough to feel my fingers and toes again, and maybe let them get a little pruny. it's damn cold outside, which is the perfect time to sit in a hot tub. i like getting out and watching the steam rising off of my 104° body, all of this silent activity going on in the space around me while i'm standing completely still.

i am the only one here to see this. i may be the only person i know who finds this amazing and strangely creepy at the same time.

i get in the shower and while standing under the hot spray, i wipe the water out of my eyes. at the same time, i feel my breath hitch in my throat. what the fuck? i think i might be on the verge of tears. even at my most depressed, i'm not really one to cry. (although my theory is that if people cried more, they'd be less depressed, but that's another story.) screw it. i decide that i probably need to let myself just cry and i'll feel better. a catharsis, if you will. after a couple more halted breaths, i hear a noise from the living room. it's probably the dog, but just in case it's my sister or her fiancé back from dinner, i decide to ixnay the ryingcay.

i shave my legs and armpits (a second-wave feminist, i am not), and wash my hair and body. i turn off the faucets and wring out my hair. when i pull aside the shower curtain, he is there, sitting calmly on the closed toilet seat and looking right at me.

no, i don't know who "he" is.

certain that he's probably here to rape me, or kill me, i gasp loudly and try (futilely, i'm sure) to protect myself with the shower curtain while stepping out of arm's reach. objectively i'm thinking this probably all looks very silly, but i guess survival instincts are probably never exactly graceful.

he doesn't move, but smiles slightly. i'm sure i look like a deer in headlights, and i can hear my blood pounding loudly in my ears.

"i'm not going to kill you, rape you, kidnap you, or even hurt you for that matter," he says, "so stop freaking out and take a breath for chrissakes."

"WHOTHEFUCKAREYOUANDWHATAREYOUDOINGINMYBATHROOM." funny, but even though he tells me to take a breath, i'm having a problem with it on account of finding a complete stranger in my bathroom. and, i'm naked. that kind of makes a weird situation even weirder. because feeling self-conscious and being scared out of your gourd? is really uncomfortable.

perhaps sensing this, he grabs my towel off of the towel rack and hands it to me. i snatch it from him and try to wrap it around myself with one hand while i hold the curtain half over me. it's not an easy task, but i'm afraid to take my eyes off of him, afraid he'll whip out a large knife and the psycho theme song will start playing.

"i'm luke, and i'd like to talk to you for a bit," he says. now successfully covered, i slowly step out of the tub (not taking my eyes off of him), and back towards the door.

"um...okay, what do you need to talk to me about? and why in my bathroom? and how did you get in? fuck, did you break a window?" the thoughts don't even have time to make it through the filter before they come out of my mouth.

"okay LOOK. go into your bedroom and get dressed. again, breathe. i'm not going to hurt you." he's clearly exasperated with me, and it occurs to me that HE's the one in MY house and therefore, he has no right to be impatient with me.

"what the FUCK dude?! you're in MY house and you're getting impatient with ME? if you don't want to talk to me, GET THE FUCK OUT."

"i told you i need to talk to you," he says.

"you said you'd like to talk to me, which implies a request, not a need," i retort.

"sematics," he says with a wave of his hand.

i back into my bedroom (again, not taking my eyes off of him) and he stands up to follow me.

(to be continued)