White Wine in the Sun

Ah, December, we meet again! Your cold is settling in beneath the layers of our jackets, we can smell the snow on your breath, and taste the gingerbread and wonder. Welcome back. Welcome home.

I don't mean to put a damper on the spirit, but it looks like this winter is going to be a rough one. Weather aside, we all seem to be a little low on morale. I can feel it where I work, I can feel it on the way to and from home, I can feel it when I lay down at night, and lord knows I feel it at Wal-Mart.

Then again, that might just be the general funk of the place.

But it's Christmas season, and that means we carry on. Oh sure, the pocketbooks and wallets are heavy with guilt and light on cash. Yes, the stocking won't be quite as bulging as they were last year. Yes, we'll have to steer clear of the idea that Happiness comes prepackaged and was probably assembled in China. And yes, our crazy aunt will once again spike the eggnog at the Christmas party. But there are trees to truce up and treats to decorate! There are wreathes to hang and lights to teach us patience! There's Mama's fudge and peppermint candy! There's Dad singing twisted carols slightly off key! In fallceto! There's nothing that the scent of pine can't cure! Tis the season!

It's easy to get down. The Holidays will do that to you. So to ward off the blues, huddle around some folks you cherish. Sip comfort, consume calm. Let it go. Let it go. Let it go. Raise your glass, and drink white wine in the sun.

A Misanthrope’s Guide to Making Magic at the Office Holiday Party

I was striving for something reflective and meaningful for this week’s post, but I decided to go with something more in line with my personality.

• On the way to the party, listen to holiday techno, like Joy Electric, in an attempt to put yourself in a better humor. Ultimately, it will fail, but you can say you tried.
• Take along a potato gun for launching ornaments at the karaoke Christmas caroler.
• Imagine your favorite literary characters crashing the party. I like to think of a Wild Thing eating up the witch in the short, electric-blue dress. A close second is an invasion by the cast of The Hunger Games and a re-creation of their arena in the Omni ballroom.
• Cough loudly at the hors d’oeuvres buffet and tell people you’re getting over swine flu, leprosy, and tuberculosis.
• Now that you have the food to yourself, there is a special treat for those of you with orthodontic apparatus. Collect cocktail toothpicks, the ones with the frilly ends add a festive touch, and turn them into projectiles using the rubber bands on your braces. For extra fun, dip them in hot sauce from the Tex-Mex table before firing.
• Consider prepping for the cocktail dress by shaving your legs sometime during the preceding three weeks. If you prefer to keep your winter coat, string tinsel and twinkle lights through it and say it’s your impression of a Fraser fur.
• Take the control top pantyhose that have been cutting off your circulation all night and use them to garrote the woman who is trying to convince you child birth is the “most amazing thing.”
• If the proud, picture-showing parents descend, announce that you think children are parasitic lumps of flesh that latch on and suck your will to live for the next—at least—eighteen years.
• Try the Electric Slide using a stun gun.
• Three words: Steal. The. Booze.
• Only hide the liquid cheer after you’ve seen a room full of white-collar yuppies do the chicken dance and YMCA. For extra points, snap a photo and slide it into their annual evaluation.
• Go for post-party cheesecake. Bribery in any form is always appreciated, especially if you’re the date of the person who actually belongs to this motley.

So, how would you make magic at the party?

Disclaimer: In no way am I advocating actual bodily harm. Being snarky, however, is condoned and even encouraged.