Bath-mas

I have had a long and tumultuous relationship with Christmas. Actually that’s completely inaccurate. What I mean to say is that I haven’t really liked Christmas since I was about 14. I’ve blogged about it before, in fact, so I won’t go into great detail, but basically it’s always been a disappointment, or stressful, or a combination of both.

As I’ve matured I’ve come to realise that vehemently hating things is kind of draining, and also not particularly amusing to friends and people around you who kind of just want to enjoy their day and don’t want to listen to you being so *different* by not liking *Christmas*. I’m not about to buy tinsel themed outfits or anything, but my objection to the holiday has certainly mellowed.

And this Christmas just gone was the best of my adult life.

After LonDon, Boyfriend and I caught a train to Bath. Due to flooding, this was an adventure in itself. Our train was cancelled, but we (along with hundreds of others) were allowed on the next one. This meant we had to stand in Paddington Station waiting for an announcement and then run (literally run) with all our luggage and amongst a mob of people to the platform. This also meant we were on an incredibly crowded train filled with young Londoners heading home for Christmas. I haven’t been in such a 20-something heavy crowd since university. If you’d done a survey you would have found perhaps 2 or 3 outliers represented in a baby and an old couple, terrified at their mistake, and everybody else would have been within 2 or 3 years of the mean age of 25. That’s right, statistics, people, statistics.

Bath.

Bath is nice. Incredibly nice. The entire city is heritage listed, which means everything looks like it did hundreds of years ago, except that instead of having sewing shops and teahouses it has Marks and Spencer and Starbucks. Actually that’s an exaggeration, Bath still has heaps of teahouses. Probably they are the same teahouses Jane Austen sat in and thought, “I’ll make him seem really aloof and cold but actually he’s just shy and dreamy! Genius!”

When we arrived at our hotel, there was a jazz band made up of teenagers playing really good jazz. We listened to the jazz and ate afternoon tea and thought about how is was 42 degrees back home. Then we walked back down to the train station to meet Amy, who is our friend, who has been living in the UK for more than a year and who would be spending Christmas with us. Back at the hotel the jazz band had gone, but the afternoon tea remained. It was a good compromise. Plus we discovered the cocktail list.

What followed was three days of eating and drinking and being stupid. On Christmas Day we went for a walk through the almost empty streets, looked at houses for rent and decided we definitely should move to Bath, the three of us, and have adventures. We came back to a five-course lunch, where we befriended our waitress, got tipsy and wore paper hats. 

Hats.

Ok, no I actually got a bit drunk, so while Amy and Boyfriend went to the bar to continue drinking, I (probably not so) quietly excused myself and retired to our room where I proceeded to have an hour long bath (in Bath, yes) and sobered up slightly.

After dinner that I can’t believe we had any room for, we watched the Doctor Who Christmas special, wherein I managed not to weep like a baby until Amy Pond’s surprise cameo, at which point I think I looked like my face had had a shower. As soon as it was over, we switched channels to ITV, and Amy and I watched the Downton Christmas special as well. As strange as it is to say, watching TV that night was one of the highlights. I discovered Doctor Who with these people (Boyfriend and Amy, I mean, as well as others) and we got to enjoy it as it aired in England, together. Similarly, Amy and I have been watching Downton together for some years now, and it felt so nice to lie on a bed and watch a silly English drama in England with her.

We spent Boxing Day drinking. I mean, we went for a walk and stuff, and things were open this time so that was nice, but mostly we continued to make our way through the cocktail list. The head bartender had some kind of degree in cocktails. The dude was amazing; he mixed us drinks not even on the list, had a vegetarian Bloody Mary recipe and gave us all gifts at the end of our stay. Basically he made our Christmas even more amazing (and drunk) than it was already. On the 27^th we did the obligatory Roman Baths tour, had lunch and said goodbye. Which was sad, in a way, but also ok, because we’d had this time together, and it filled us all up, I think, with the maximum amount of happy points.

Boyfriend bought me this owl bag for Christmas

Things I managed to not mention chronologically but definitely warrant a mention:

 - Boardgames in hotel lounges are the business.

 - We came third in the trivia despite being at a significant disadvantage when they started asking England-specific Christmas questions.

 - There was a “ski bar” outside the hotel that did warm cider and jars of cocktails.

I'm not kidding.

 - We went to Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve even though Boyfriend and Amy weren’t actually that keen and it was basically just me bullying them into coming so that I could sing all the songs and pretend I was still in a choir and that was really nice of them.

 - Some swans tried to kill us.

Right after I took this I started running.

 - The meals were absolutely incredible and I discovered what celeriac is and it makes good soup.

 - I was too drunk to work out how to use the bath plug and had to get someone from reception to show me.

 - All traditional Christmas decorations make 300x more sense in cold climates and did not fill me with nearly as much rage as usual so that was nice.

 - Hey Australia, let’s get some decorations that don’t have fake snow on them, how about that?

 - Christmas can be really awesome.

 For those interested we stayed at Bath Abbey Hotel and booked the Christmas Package. Seriously, A+, 5 stars, would recommend. 

FREE GIFT! A Love Letter to You.

Well readers, this kinda snuck up on me, but this is actually my last post for the year!

 

Boyfriend and I are off on a four week trip to the UK so I’m giving myself a holiday from blogging too – I’ll be back late January with tales, anecdotes, photos and jet lag. It’ll be awesome. And don’t worry, yes, we are visiting both the Harry Potter studio tour and Doctor Who Experience.

So, with that in mind, I’d like to embark on a nostalgic post about all the ways I love you, my readers. Please read (or scroll) to the end for a very important announcement about A FREE GIFT.

First up, can I just say you are looking really sexy today, all of you, yep, even you.

No but seriously, I love you for reading what I write, for commenting, for liking, for lurking and for sharing. Every year I am blown away by how much support I get from you guys and I just want to say thank you. This year in particular, I was overwhelmed by the responses I got on my survey, and you all helped me realise that I could keep doing this, that I *should* keep doing this, and that everything was going to be ok.

Writing for others is really scary, even if all you are writing is stupid lists and introspective self-indulgence. Other people reading my words has always been a dream and to know that you are all there, on the other side of screens is amazing.
I love you for critiquing me, for helping me to be better, I love you even when you don’t read every single week (it’s a lot, don’t ever feel bad) and I love you even if this is the first post of mine you’ve ever read.

 

To my friends and family, you have been with me from the start, and I love you, you’re the best, sorry I don’t call.

To the people who feel weird because they don’t really know me but we’re friends on facebook, you make up the largest part of me readership, stop feeling weird, honestly, I love you. (Am I making you feel weirder? *strokes cheek*)

To the friends I’ve made on the internet, or because of this blog, or both. I love you IRL.

To the people who keep finding my Sansa Stark post on tumblr, I love you, don’t ever change.

To the random people who only ever used me for my stolen Disney images… I don’t like, *love* you as such, but we are definitely cool.

As a thank you to all of you, I would like to give you personalised Christmas blog gifts. These gifts will be in the form of short videos of me saying something fun about you from somewhere in the UK! Want one? (Of course you do!) All you have to do is tell me, in the comments, on facebook, IRL, however you want that you do. If you have a specific request, then let me know and I’ll try to make your dreams come true. They will be delivered to you upon my return, and they will be glorious.

 

Have a wonderful holiday, enjoy whatever it is you’re doing, know that I miss you and (in case you hadn’t picked it up yet) I FLIPPIN LOVE YOU YO.

 

Lizzy xx

12 Reasons it's OK to Hate Christmas

I try not to be too grinchy, but I’m really not a Christmas kind of person. I find it kind of stressful, and never what I hope it to be. I like seeing my family, but I much prefer to do so on a quieter, less jingly kind of day.

The most frustrating thing about Christmas for me is this: no one will just let me not enjoy it. I used to be pretty obnoxious about my distaste for the festive season, but these days I try to be as subtle as possible. But even though I work very hard to not get in the way of other peoples’ enjoyment of Christmas, they just reeeeeally want me to join in. And that would be fine too, but the more I resist, the angrier they seem to get. And I think the problem is that I don’t have a good reason, as such, for not liking Christmas. It’s mostly just that I find it not at all relaxing or pleasant, but you can’t explain that to people when they are trying to get you to wear reindeer antlers in the workplace.

So with that in mind, I have compiled a list of reasons it would be ok to not like Christmas, feel free to use these if you find yourself caught between a singing Santa and an unpleasant co-worker under the mistletoe.

12 Reasons it's OK to Hate Christmas by Lizzyish

1.     Your mother died in a hideous Christmas decoration explosion. They couldn’t tell where the tinsel ended and her intestines began.

2.     You are allergic to wrapping paper.

3.     Your entire family died when a sleigh fell on their heads during a staged family Christmas photo. You survived by eating your way out of the fake snow.

4.     Aliens have abducted you literally every Christmas day since you were born. It’s just tiring now really.

5.     “Jingle Bells” is a trigger from your old military days. The second you hear it, you go into a blind rage and kill everyone you see.

6.     Your parents named you Santa.

7.     You are a devout member of a new Christian denomination that believes Jesus was born on June 17^th.

8.     You work in retail.

9.     You were once a subject in a scientific experiment where you had your eyes taped open and were forced to watch all of those Tim Allen Santa Clause films back to back.

10. You are the eleventh Lord-a-Leaping and thus forever left behind. Leaping, leaping… alone.

11. Seeing the combination of red and green makes you inexplicably, spontaneously shit yourself. People always wish you a “Merry Shitmas”, they cover it, but you know… you know.*

12. You are one of the 105,000 people who will have nowhere to go at Christmas this year.

* You also hate the Rabbitohs

Hum Drum Holidays! I will be taking a short sojourn from le blog and will return in January with more lists like this one, more analysis of my teenhood, other fun stuff, and anything else you might want to see. Let me know if there's something in particular you would like me to do more of/less of/some of in comments or on any of my social mediums. In the meantime, I say funny stuff here, and update you about new blogs and how much I hate Facebook here. 

Have a lovely Christmas and New Year, thanks for reading - you all mean the world to me. 

Lizzy xx

How the Grinch ate Christmas

Ah December....


you bastard.


Yes, for those of you who know me (and let's face it, that's all of you - I'm no famous blogger..er) you know that I hate Christmas. I know, I know, "but Lizzy," I hear you cry, "it's so joyous and wonderful and fun and there's presents and family and it's the BEST!"

I know. But I still hate it. And here are the reasons why.

Children, children everywhere and not a drop to drink.

I spend Christmas Evening and Day with 3 wonderful, excellent children that I love to death. These are my siblings. For them, Christmas starts at dawn. Dawn is not a time I like to experience. We do not get on. I do not function at dawn. But I have no choice, I will have stayed up till midnight wrapping presents and eating carrots (we leave them for the reindeer) only to be awoken around 4:45am by children. It's as though they have adrenalin pumping through their veins as they sleep so that by the time they wake up my parents and I have to pull them down from the ceiling so that they can unwrap their presents. Presents + adrenalin turn my usually nicely tempered, fun siblings into squabbling, selfish crazy people. In miniature. Actually one of them's kinda getting tall now. Beside the point. Moving on.

Present Phobia


I have one. I don't like unwrapping presents, and I don't like watching people unwrap presents I have bought for them. Merry Christmas! Urgh.


Toowoomba


My extended family live in Toowoomba. We often go there for Christmas. The last time I spent any amount of time in Toowoomba I got a tic on my neck. Also it has a lot of flowers. These two facts are all I know about it. I'm sure it has lots of great features but I really can't stand being there.

Expectation


"It's going to be lovely, we'll only stay a few hours, we'll eat food, exchange pleasantries and presents and get out of there" inevitably turns into "I didn't realise she would bring HIM and I can't believe we forgot the present for blah, and why did noone think to preorder the chicken - such and such spent so long in the kitchen I felt awful, urgh why is it so HOT?!"

Tee-total
I have a self-imposed alcohol ban for Christmas Day. I am far too candid as it is, the last thing I need to have is less inhibitions when surrounded by people I'm related to who don't necessarily know what I really think about politics, or how much time I really spend on the internet and how much I really don't want to be there. Particularly considering someone in my extended family once said "If I were your father I wouldn't allow you to do that (probably get a peircing or move in with a boyfriend or something else benign and boring) and I replied "lucky for both of us you're not then hey?" I was sober. Very sober.

Reviewing this list I'm considering revoking this ban.

*******

So, this year I decided to be positive. I've been compiling a mental list of all the things that are good about Christmas (keeping in mind that I see my family regularly so "seeing my family" doesn't really count). Here is the list.

1. Those delicious shortbread biscuits that come in tins
2. Stone fruit

I honestly can't think of anything else. My list of 2 things is comprised entirely of food. Om nom nom, Merry Christmas.