Keep Calm and Have a Merry Christmas!

Oh, I love these! Especially, all together like this. How could you *not* feel calm if you were wearing 10 "keep calm" necklaces?

I kept calm yesterday by hitting one of my all-time favorite bars with one of my all-time favorite friends. Drinking in daytime is such a naughty pleasure. The 3 p.m. shot of tequila hit more than the spot. I've written about the bar in so many different stories and novels—beginning, I think, with Rumors nearly a decade ago all the way up to this year's "Plucked" from Smart Ass:

She’s at the bar that night. We’re all at the bar. Small-town living means that your choices are narrowed to two—stay home or go to The Local. Sandy’s at the corner—his corner. Nobody would dare to sit on Sandy’s stool, even when he’s not in the bar. That’s how things are out here. What’s yours is yours. At least, until you lose your turn. The woman steps inside and scans the room quickly. I can see her assessing the situation. Battered floor that matches the scuffed bar that matches the ripped-up stools. An old jukebox—not vintage, mind you, nor refurbished retro—just fucking old.

From the large, luscious picture window, we could see people scurrying around to do their last-minute holiday shopping. But we were calm as could be as we sipped sublimely and watched the restless natives.

Hope you find a spot of calm in your merry-merry madness!

XXX,
Alison