Ah yes. Thanksgiving. A time to gorge ourselves into physical pain, share our gratitude in long winded Facebook posts, and listen to Clay Aiken’s Christmas CD with utter abandon since the holiday season is now upon us. Many will argue that this feast is their favorite holiday, but like most savvy materialistic females, I have to disagree. There is nothing quite like the joy, the thrill that Black Friday offers. The promise of abundant savings, copious purchases, and spending my month’s rent in a matter of hours makes Black Friday my favorite national holiday.

My older sister and I have observed this day for as long as I can remember. We try to go to a different mall every year and hope that one year we will make it all the way to The Mall of America. (I have goosebumps thinking about it.) The rules are simple. Feel free to take notes and participate in the fun!

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Ah yes, it’s that time of year again. The joy of seasonal affective disorder is upon us, with credit card debt wracking up, and herds of Facebook friends whoring around their “newly engaged” photos. The reality of the holidays can cause crippling depression, but thankfully, we have lighthearted cheeky holiday rom-coms to console us. I have my own particular favorites including Elf, A Christmas Story, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, but none of them compare to the masterpiece that is Love, Actually.

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