Join Holly as she searches east Auckland for love and connection.
In which Holly prepares for Christmas…
I shimmied into the red fishnet number I’d purchased online and surveyed my breasts critically.
Small pillows of pink flesh strained against the ruby strands of net.
Great, I thought. I look like I’m wearing a pair of Christmas hams.
Reader, I ought to have gone to Lily Whyte, had a proper fitting, and bought something of decent quality, but I’d gotten carried away on Temu.
While I try to shop local and avoid fast consumer goods, I’ve been short of both time and money this year, so some of my shopping has been done online.
I thought I’d check out the cheap lingerie while I was there. What a mistake.
The Temu gifts are mostly for secret Santa recipients and friend’s children, who I only see once a year.
Reindeer beach towel and sand bucket sets, novelty socks, and cheap 3D puzzles, whose pieces will probably be lost by Boxing Day, will do the trick.
For those I care most about, the gifts I give will be simple. I generally prefer to give experiences rather than stuff, so they’ll receive things like coffee cards or movie vouchers.
Some people are getting plants I’ve grown, poems I’ve written for them, or batches of my world-famous-in-Cockle-Bay Irish cream macarons.
My suitors will each get a card filled with naughty polaroids of me dressed up… as a butchery section, apparently.
I guess it’s lucky that I’m not dating any vegans.
The gap between Christmas and New Year is my favourite time of year, because I’ve found that people connect best at this time.
The days are long, kids are entertained with sunshine and new toys, and there’s an unhurried quality to the time we spend with each other.
Of the five love languages, quality time is my favoured one, so I’m never happier than when I’m chilling out on a friend’s deck, chatting about everything and nothing.
Conversely, it’s also the time I’m most grateful to live independently.
My peace is protected. My schedule is my own. Does it get lonely? Well, sometimes… for a moment.
Loneliness is a natural human emotion, after all. Then, I bake some macarons, or write some poetry, and get into what psychology calls “Flow state”.
I become totally immersed in the pleasant task of the moment, hours pass, and my mood lifts.
I’m convinced that everyone should know how to enter their own version of Flow.
For one of my suitors, his Flow activity is fishing. He’s going away on a long fishing trip, so we celebrated Christmas early with a candlelit dinner, a cuddle on the couch watching Die Hard (yes, Reader, I absolutely believe that Die Hard is a Christmas movie) and the exchange of gifts.
I was thrilled with the restaurant voucher he gave me and promised we’d spend it once he returned.
He opened the large envelope I gave him, containing a card stuffed with mini candy canes, condoms, and the polaroids.
“Yum, yum, baby,” he murmured against my collarbone.
“You look like a sexy ham.”
Well, that’s my New Year’s resolution sorted, Reader. I’m off to Lily Whyte.
Email holly@times.co.nz
Yours in love,
Holly
