One of my favourite parts from one of my favourite movies, Everyone Says I Love You, is when narrator, DJ, announces the coming of winter and the Dandridge family's holiday plans:
"But when Christmas comes... We're not the kind of family that sings carols... and we don't have a goose or anything. What we do is head for Paris, to spend Christmas at the Ritz".
As if having Woody Allen for a father isn't eurotrash enough, DJ and her entire band of misfit toys do what eurotrash always does this time of year: FLY OUT! Now, a eurotrash girl must confess that the inspiration for this post had something to do with a last-minute booking and everything to do with the fulfillment of a sound prophecy. You see, for some people 'tis the season for stuffing stockings... for others, 'tis the season for stuffing suitcases. My better half has her suitcase already stuffed; prophecy fulfilled. However, up until yesterday I really thought that the prophecy was being cruelly selective; I was a eurotrash pariah desperately shaking all the gifts under the tree in hopes of finding Pearson airport. Silly me, I should've just checked my Inbox where the e-ticket lay awaiting.
Alas, with full authority, I take charge of this post to preach the truths of the eurotrash holiday prophecy. Someway, somehow, a flight will find her. That's why when asked what she's doing for New Year's Eve, a eurotrash girl doesn't commit to any definitive plans beyond champagne. Albeit, some years the prophecy thwarts our lifestyle (or our lifestyle thwarts the prophecy?) and we get stuck on the couch, toasting to Dick Clark in HD, but we truly hope that was a one time deal. Besides, we hadn't even started the blog yet. Humble beginnings.
And not so humble ends. Whatever.
Happy Holidays and Bon Voyage!
