Ode to 2012

Dear year,
You were a rotten sot,
You, devoid of any bon mot,
I'd like to flush you down the toilet,
Alas, I'm afraid, my plumbing...you'd spoil it.
2012, do kiss my ass,
2012, you harlot lass,
I hated you with every fiber of my being,
2012, no more of you will I be seeing.
I've never claimed to be a poet (despite what I may have said between 1994-1999), but for me personally, I hated this last year. There were high points- my sister got married, had her first child, I started the year employed and with benefits, had a working vehicle...then time passed. Cars stopped working. I stopped working. Money was scarce for most of us. Just before Christmas, our grandmother passed away (she would have been 73 this past Sunday, also my sister's 25th) and least of all, I've had a cold for nearly a week. And strange dreams, about apocalypse, demonic possession, and things that go boom in the night. And that was just last night. I blame it all on the constant near-disaster that was 2012. Hell, I'll even throw in there that 2012 sucking so much ass is why none of us got to see The Great Gatsby on Christmas day, like we were supposed to have. Parle à mon cul, 2012. Hasta la pasta and good riddance.
That said, I mourn the shortness of the holiday season. Perhaps because we always seem to wind up postponing it, so the feelings have passed, when the rest has been dragged on. I mean, Rudolph just doesn't have the same feel in January as he does in December. And don't even get me started on how I missed every hour of "24 Hours of A Christmas Story." This year, our family Christmas is Jan 20. A week before my birthday. I miss the good old days of holiday stress involving not getting all the cookies made on time, will we be late for the party at granny's house, are my warmest pajamas clean?! Having to feign holiday cheer for an extra damn month is not tops on my list of "shit I really want to do." And don't get me wrong, I adore Christmas. All the happiest memories of my childhood seem to gather between December 23-25. I'm especially fond of Christmas Eve-eve, where anticipation is highest, bonfires are being lit, fireworks purchased, and granny was still making her fudge, Mexican wedding cookies, and punch. My goodness....I could drown happily in that punch. That said, I seem to be indulging in much more bah, humbug the older I get, and the more things change.
My hopes for our upcoming holiday celebration are cookies, pizzas, pretzels dipped in chocolate, presents, holiday cartoons, butane for the heater, my cold to be long gone, all of us having the ability to be there, and poor Moo juice will finally get to open her gifts, like she was promised to do 3 days ago. And as for 2013, I hope Christmas happens WHEN IT DAMN WELL SHOULD this year, that we're all prepared, that things in general look up for all of us, and for the love of gingy, no.more.funerals. the last two years have been difficult in that regard, and I think our family deserves a break. Also, I hope to not have a cold, because seriously, this thing is rough.
Happy new year. Hope it's lovelier than you've hoped for :)