Zmas is.

Ariana and I have successfully survived our first Christmasses (henceforth, Zmas) away from home. Surprisingly, there were few tears. Surprisingly, it all went very well indeed.

I came up from Oxford on Friday night having spent a very productive week learning about how I can watch episodes of TV on the Internet, strolling around my foggy city, learning how to turn on my radiator, and feeling Oxford slowly drain of its student population. When I went to the main college site to sign in my keys, lugging my dad's big old duffel bag and my backpack, the porter told me I'd received a package. So, onto the Oxford Tube I trundled, duffel on my back, pack under one arm, big package from the muzz under the other, The Church of John Coltrane on my iPod. Though I feared passive-aggressive stares and over-polite accommodation from fellow tube-travellers on my way, getting to AR's was surprisingly headache free.

Zmas preparations mainly involved braving the crowds to buy groceries at the local Tesco's before I escapted the Holiday Spirit by meeting Sasha (from my course) and Andy (her bf) for a wander around Camden Market, where London feels citylike and fashionable and cute clothing was acquired. AR and I then spent Zmas eve in the kitchen: AR on the stuffing, me on the Nanaimo bars. I hadn't intended to make them, but when we started discussing the issue of a Zmas dessert, the prospect of holidays without Nanaimos was just not an option for me. Despite England's seeming disrespect for the graham cracker, I persevered. (Digestives make a perfectly fine substitute.)

Zmas day was mild and happy. A morning of presents, smoked salmon, croissants, and strolling through the neighbourhood. An afternoon in the kitchen with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, corn, stuffing. An evening of eating and more neighbourhood strolls, then vague comatose moaning in front of the "tv." Phone calls from friends and parents. We missed things. We missed people. But we were okay. It's all documented on Flickr.