Three good things came of my holiday season.
1. I watched my old roommate's oldest friend burn a huge stack of gift boxes on christmas night, right after she came home with them. Something incredibly cathartic happened in seeing all those present boxes flame up in her suburban fireplace while my old roommate told me what wasn't classified about the section of the government she's currently working for.
Sometimes I think more of my friends are spies than aren't. And it's nice to watch gift boxes burn, and think about how I never want to be involved in this kind of holiday again.
2. I walked into my oldest friend's parent's house, to hear her mother shriek with joy that my hair is now cut like it was when I was eight years old.
3. A relative gave me some jewelry that is rather meaningful to her, and in turn, me. To rough up some of the tenderness of the gift, she informed me that she was giving it to me so that it wouldn't end up, after her death, in another relative's "scrap gold pile". I'm glad to have alleviated her concern about the other relative becoming a pirate and melting down rather precious and sentimental heirlooms of the family.
Yes, she said "scrap gold pile". And she meant it. Bless her heart.