I remember when I was little, I loved driving around in December and looking at the lights people would put up in their homes. After my parents divorced, something about the holidays always looked kind of bleek. It seemed like something a whole family should celebrate, not parts.

But my mom loved looking at the big houses and their lights. So, without fail, every December we'd bundle up and get in the car, just the two of us, and drive to the biggest (re: wealthiest) we could think of. And we would look at all of the lights, criticize the lights we didn't like and ogle the ones we did.

And gradually, holidays started to become more normalized for me. We got into a routine, just us. And it felt whole again.

And now it's my first Christmas not at home. I have to make my own traditions now. So the boyfriend and I decorated our tree with our blue ornaments and our white and red lights, and we lit the menorah.

But don't you worry. The boyfriend and I will be bundling up soon enough to go look at the lights. It won't feel like Christmas without it.

And, funny enough, we're going to cozy up and watch the Chrismukkah episode of The O.C.

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