I didn't realize how badly I needed to spend some time out in the sticks. My parents' house is on top of a mountain, surrounded by vast forest and empty fields. In some places you can set your eyes on rolling mountains that go on for miles. The sunsets up there are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. You don't get the same thing in the city.

So I spent my time helping my mother with the cooking and cleaning, making cookies and simple stuff like that. Drank a lot of wine, played a bit of cards, fun family stuff like that. Went partridge hunting at sunset, where you basically drive along forest roads scanning the treetops for the birds. You get out of the truck, crawl into the woods, shoot, and struggle through the snow to retrieve the bird. Our dog usually does the latter, with her little orange hunting vest on and her tail wagging fervently. I don't ever ask to have a shot, I don't have the heart to kill anything bigger than a fly. I enjoy the drive and the company, and watching the dog running around the woods. I spotted one of the birds and was damn proud of myself.

I am back now at my house, relaxed and relieved of the tension I'd been feeling the past few weeks. I look forward to relaxing for a few days and am still deciding on what I'll be doing for New Years. The boy is adamant on wanting me to visit him, which is a ridiculous idea. I'll likely be in Montreal, but to party with frat boys or relax with the girls? Hmmm..

This is probably the most boring entry I've ever written. I just wrote for the sake of writing, and realize now I'm doing the typical "this was my Christmas" entry. I disgust myself.