'Tis the season to be...fuming

The Man has finally gotten off his arse and done something. He's invited me over to Spain for the holidays. Remember, we haven't seen each other since the (latest) break-up 4 months ago and especially not since he started talking about proposing to me. As I'm still hoping to land an interview and possibly even a job, I've not been able to confirm any dates yet. And there's also the unfortunate task of having to break the news to all those I won't be spending holidays with. Like my Dad.

I'm off to spend some (I'm not even going to bother with the word quality over here) time with him this weekend. Him and the Step Mum. Who, judging by the latest conversations, are going through one of their not-talking-to-each-other- phases. Which is a nice addition to the not-living-together-phase. I sure hope his wine cellar is fully stocked. If only I could afford the air fare, I'd outsource them both to India myself.

Then there's my sister. She's already in full swing, organizing a Christmas à la Famille (though conveniently sans les parents). All my siblings are getting together and it would be so much fun.

But in case I ever intend to extract that bloody proposal out of the verbally constipated git, I need to see him, right? 

So, I had a look at the flights. Mary, Joseph and fucking baby Jesus the prices have gone through the roof! And the thing is, it's the same thing every bloody year.

See, Holidays are very much like winter, snow, monsoons and your significant other's birthday. An annual occurrence that still never fails to take us by surprise. The older we get, the less prepared we are - every year. Even with the combined experience of 85 Christmases, we still don't know any better. Remember when I said that with him I've never been able to plan ahead? Well this is no exception.

By the time he realizes that hey, Christmas/ Hanukkah/ Kwanzaa/ Festivus is just around the corner the rest of the world's Christian/ Jewish/ Black/ Weird population have already made their arrangements and snapped up all the available flights.

I'm furious. If were really serious about getting his shit together and doing the honourable thing, surely he would have started making some plans? Sure, I'm still willing to fly over but it's going on his credit card. And let's not forget: the more money he's going to need to fork out for the flights... the less there is to spend it on the ring.