I didn’t mean to make this a crazy partying holiday season, honestly. It’s just, Uncle Trent sang his doom song for (possibly) the last time, and I needed to drown my sorrows with comrades. And then last weekend, I had to see Divine M, because I missed her, and missed her birthday, and it seemed like a good time to take a few days to visit the ‘Zoo. I had no idea that her delightful academic colleagues not only throw a hell of a holiday party, but could drink me under the table, to boot. I hadn’t expected that at all. I have, however, been planning to attend M-Shel’s gloggy good time this weekend, and I have my company office party tomorrow, so I’ll be wearing my party dress and game face for a few days more. Then I am retiring to the country (okay, outside Philly with the grands and cousins and such) to recuperate. I am really very, very glad my people at home are teetotalers, because if I had to spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve keeping up with anybody else, my liver would just freaking move out in protest.

Mother, if you’re reading this, relax. This is not common behavior. I usually spend evenings and weekends with my cat, in spinsterly seclusion. Back away from the Betty Ford brochure, please.

M-Shel, not a word of humor. She really would call.


1 Response to “Deck the *hic* boughs of *hic* with bowls of lalalalalaaaazzzzzzzzZZZZZ *thud*”

  1. 1 M-shel

    My mom has already given me the ‘holiday drinking lecture’—THREE TIMES. I totally understand…

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