Over the weekend, Billy and I went on a trip to the other side of the world to an exotic place called Staten Island. You should imagine me whispering “Staten Island” in a hushed voice, to emphasize its mysteriousness. We were there celebrating a friend’s 30th birthday and we had a great time. The party was at a little Italian place called Giuliana’s, and we took up most of the little solarium in the back (ok, we actually took up the entire solarium and we were packed in there like sardines, but it was cozy). At one point while we were there, I looked around at all the pretty lights in the room and realized that they hadn’t taken their holiday decorations down yet.
It dawned on me then that it is those days right after Christmas that really are the best. You finally get a day or two to sit back and enjoy the lights and the holly and the wreaths and the Christmas cards and the holiday music, and you can play with all your new toys and eat your awesome cookies. All the rush is over. Well, that’s what I remember, anyway. I can’t really remember a recent Christmas where any of this happened. Until that night at that party. And it was nice, because no one was thinking about Christmas right then (except me), and I could really appreciate and enjoy the beauty of the decorations and the closeness of all the family and friends, and all the hype had already passed. It was peaceful and joyous, just like what I feel Christmas “should” be.
All this is just my way of introducing my own sad good-bye to Christmas by way of very crudely executed time lapse photography. (I miss my tripod!) Enjoy!