All I Want for Christmas is You by Rebecca the Book Lady!

(Having met Rebecca, also known as the book lady, in real life, I know that she's every bit as funny and fun and smart as she seems online. I was so excited that she agreed to write a guest post about one of her favorite Christmas songs--which incidentally is one of mine)

Winter 1994: I’ve just turned twelve years old, and I am solidly in the middle of that awkward adolescent phase where your nose is too big for your face, your hair never looks quite right, and your wardrobe choices can only be described as unfortunate.

And I have braces. Can’t forget the braces. (And this is 1994, so they’re not those high-tech, streamlined, barely noticeable braces kids these days have. These puppies are unmissable.)

With raging hormones (and the pimples to prove it) but nary a suitor in sight, I am facing a sad, lonely, oh-so-single holiday season. And every Christmas song in existence seems intent on rubbing it in.

I can’t listen to “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” because it reminds me there’s no one pining away for me.

I hate “Winter Wonderland” because nobody’s counting the hours ‘til later on, when we’ll conspire as we dream by the fire.

“The Christmas Song” is out because it makes multiple references to nuts. And I’m twelve. So that’s both gross and giggle-inducing.

And Nick Lachey and Jessica Simpson haven’t met yet, so their wonderfully sappy rendition of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” is still years from conception.

What’s a single girl nursing at least ten unrequited crushes to do?

Well, if it’s winter 1994, then the only solution is to buy yourself a sexy Santa costume, frolic around in some fake snow, and convince that boy he needs you. Tell him that HE is ALL YOU WANT FOR CHRISTMAS.

Hey, it’s working for Mariah in that new video, right?

Winter 2009: I don’t remember the first time I heard “All I Want for Christmas is You,” but I’ll never forget dancing around my bedroom, singing into my hairbrush, and imagining for just a few minutes that I was Mariah Carey. That I could fill out that sexy Santa outfit. And that it would make Justin (or Wes or Paul or Jeff or…well, you get the point) realize that all he wanted for Christmas was me.

And I’ll never forget the little dance my sister choreographed in the car one day. It’s the same dance I’ve done every time I’ve heard this song for the last fifteen years, and so what if the first move very closely resembles Cher’s “rolling with the homies” thing from Clueless?

Now that I’m separated from my mom and sister by several states, I’ll also never forget, the first time I hear this song on the radio each year, to call them on speakerphone and turn the volume ALL THE WAY UP, so we can sing and dance with each other like we always have.

Over the last fifteen years, I have sung this song to boyfriends both real and imaginary. I’ve sung it in moments of giddy happiness---that Christmas Eve when my best guy friend told me he loved and the Christmas right before my wedding come to mind---and aching loneliness. I’ve sung it to my dad (who rolled his eyes but danced with me anyway) and my mom and my sister and my husband (more times than he’d like) and my dog. I’ve sung alone in the car at the top of my lungs and made the people in the car next to me think I was crazy.

And you know what? I’ll keep on singing it, year after year, because of the old memories it holds and the new ones it hints at.

And because someday….someday I’m going to get that sexy Santa outfit and really live the dream.

Go watch the official video!