Why I Never Go Home for the Holidays

I have a few reasons why I don’t go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I cemented this right after I moved from Michigan to Colorado (a journey I started the day after Thanksgiving, 1993. That might be telling. Or not).

First of all, I’m going from Colorado to Michigan. The chances of me having to spend my holiday in an overcrowded airport, stranded for three days of my four day weekend, are about 70%. No thank you. I like DIA, but not enough to live there over an extended weekend. And the crowds! Nopenopenope.

Second, the holidays are fraught with drama, even between relatives who see each other all the time. And apparently I have the singular ability to say some random offhand thing that offends someone and then we have Drama 101. So, no need to stoke that fire. Nope.

Third, I’m just not a big fan of Christmas. I LOVE Thanksgiving, because gorging yourself on turkey is probably one of my definitions of Utopia, but the whole holiday “shiny happy family” expectation thing just is NOT going to happen. Ever. I’d guess 70-80% of the population knows what I’m talking about. Everyone wants a Hallmark holiday, and then Uncle Gene barfs into the Christmas tree while Aunt Sally is screaming at Uncle Sam to STFU. It’s a thing.

I’d rather go visit when the weather is nice, there’s a good chance my flight will leave at LEAST on the day it was scheduled, and I can enjoy myself, because there is no holiday pressure.

Also, people need to get over the fact that if someone isn’t “home” for the holidays, they’re depressed. I assure you, I am quite happy to cook a 20lb. turkey for myself (yes, I REALLY do this – I freeze the leftovers and I have turkey for months – it’s AWESOME) and I hate Christmas so I don’t care that I don’t have a tree (I have not decorated since 1999). I drink vodka and binge watch Netflix – it’s AWESOME.

I’m also a little bothered by this concept of “home”. My home is here, in Colorado, in my apartment with my silly Shiba and my insane calico cat, and the friends I hang out with. My family lives in Michigan, and I visit them. But that is not home. I don’t live there. I don’t want to. That is not home.

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