tavie.com

Nothing can ruin my Christmas spirit. Despite the overrated window displays and the sickening crush of humanity, the obliteration of one-sixth of my small family, the long absence of Rumplemeyer's and the fact that I would break Santa's knee and he's not the real Santa anyway at Macy's (he sits on a THRONE OF LIES!), nothing can dampen my Christmas cheer.

Because I am Tavie and it is my job. I think I was really born an elf but raised human, like the inverse of Will Ferrell in that movie. I am the buyer and erector of Christmas trees, the sender of cards (maybe not this year, I'm very broke, but I still love you), the singer of carols, the planner of walking tours, the disappointed but still hopeful fan of nighttime strolls through the twinkly, reindeer-laced Bronx Zoo, the maker of the best real hot chocolate, the enforcer of the watching of the same Christmas specials over and over, the obsessive adherer to Tradition, the believer-in of Christmas miracles, and the knitter of fuzzy slippers. I'm a self-appointed angel. I'm Clarence on caffeine. I'm the anti-Grinch.

It's only November though, people-- you have to pace yourself until after the Macy's Parade. Honest. Get your stuff together but don't go crazy yet. Stay by me and it will be okay. You can start to get a little excited. I'll let you know when. Then you can bake cookies with me and we'll make green-and-red construction paper chains, you and me.

"Smiling is my FAVOURITE!"

Why are you in Tavie's head? 3:18 AM | shower me with attention