Christmas eve saw me scrambling to pack up my bags and bike the two-ish blocks to the Boobie Palace. Pancake mix? Check. Gifts? Check. Pajamas? Check. Weighted down, I was lucky that I only fell over once, and managed not to break the bottles of wine and champagne. When I arrived, I was happy to find the place decorated with an array of sparkly garland and a mini tree (about 12 inches high, but a tree is a tree). Joanna and Kat ducked out to get some snacks and some more wine, and Melissa and I chatted and I checked my email. Christmas eve commenced with their return; wine and chocolate consumption, chit-chat and The Scissor Sisters (I regretted not bringing over my two Christmas cd's). We waited until midnight, and then celebrated with a group hug and the opening of some of our gifts. Melissa delighted the three of us by giving each of us a gorgeous pot of flowers; red for Kat, pink for Joanna and white for me. As I was sleeping on the couch, I had the final word on bed-time; I told everyone to get to sleep, otherwise Santa wouldn't come.

I played Santa, and after everyone awoke and emerged, the stocking were opened; a bottle of real maple syrup was included for each girl. I cooked pancakes and eggs (and bacon for the two of us non-vegetarians) and we drank pink champagne mimosas and toasted the bright sunny Christmas morning before scooting off to work.

Work was weird; the teachers were unhappy and incredulous that the students could sign up and arrive to lessons as though this was just any other day. I had expected it though, and so brought a little photo album to work with me, and I began every lesson with it: look, this is my mom, my dad, my brother, my grandparents, my aunts, uncles, cousins. This is Aldergrove in the winter. This is the Santa Claus doll that my brother and I have had our picture taken with for twenty-six years running. This is our Christmas tree. My family has Scottish heritage, so in this picture, my brother and dad are wearing kilts. Sharing my Christmas traditions with the students made the lessons bearable; they appreciated where I was coming from, and I felt like I had given them a different perspective on the holiday.

After work I joined forces with Travis and Neil; we hit the liquor store where I bought the ingredients for poor-man's champagne (apricot brandy and ginger ale; my mom's family Christmas cocktail). The man working at the checkout was dressed in a head-to-toe Ruldoph costume. Ridiculous, but cute. Next, to my tiny apartment to grab the half-cooked ingredients for Christmas dinner. We made our careful way back to Neil's bigger place and I began to cook; Neil helped me locate utensils as Travis mixed my drink and got the carols playing. More folks arrived; soon the apartment was filled with animation. Joanna and Kat madly prepared vegetables (Jeff peeled the carrots), drinks were poured, the breeze was shot in the living room on Neil's enormous heated fuzzy rug. Yes... Heated. FUZZY. Rug. I could live on that thing... Melissa and I made a run to the Lawson's convienience store for some milk. We all ate heartily, including my somewhat runny squash pie with whipped-cream-from-a-can, applied by the skillful hand of Chris, our newest staff member from Los Vegas. We played spoons, and an aptly-named game called 'Once Around, You're Drunk'. We drank too much, and we spilled booze on Neils rug. We laughed. We laughed a LOT. Anyway, it wasn't the Christmas I expected. Maybe it wasn't exactly the Christmas I wanted. But it was great.