I said Yellow would be about social plans, but I lied. Instead it's about my relationship with holidays.
My dad's side of the family knows how to do Christmas right. My grandma used to mail out big tubs of Pfefferkuchen topped with chocolate and a few sprinkles a couple weeks before the day. Christmas Eve dinner is usually something simple but nice, maybe cheese fondue or roasted duck legs. There's presents to unwrap and actually classy Christmas music playing. They polish the actually-silver-silverware and have a great fancy dinner, ending in a big, boozy trifle.
I don't have any of that this year. It's important for me to remember that that was my choice: the reasons I'm not there are awful and unfair, but I could have gone. It's hard not to be wistful, all the same.
Instead, I'm doing dinner with a couple friends, and I am going all-out, within the allowances of my budget. I have made cookies and acquired a duck and they're bringing the sides and dessert. It still feels strange to be the one hosting. I am confronting the question of what my own traditions are going to be, much earlier than I thought I would need to.