The time from Thanksgiving through New Year’s should be called the “holidaze”. Invitations to drop by, invitations for cocktails, invitations for dinner – I’m holidazed by it all.
What to wear? Several years ago I decided to simplify my life by wearing black – solids, prints, stripes – basically black. Because of this decision I don’t have a holiday sweater. I don’t have one piece of red or green clothing. What I have is Johnny Cash’itis; but happily, everything goes with everything – except Christmas.
After what to wear comes the problem of what to bring the host. Egg nog? Poinsettias? Ribbon Candy? I’d love to bring fruit cake because I have several left over from last Christmas. Unfortunately, I don’t remember who gave them to me – which could make re-gifting an endangerment to the merriment of the season.
No, I’ll give the same gift I gave last year – a card that says I’ve made a charitable donation on behalf of the party host. It’s the perfect host gift for Christmas. One size fits all, no host can have too many and – best of all – it’s not fattening.
Then there’s the partying itself. Calories shouldn’t count during the holidaze. While Santa’s busy working with the elves in his workshop, I think Mrs. Santa should create her own elfin magic and make calories disappear.
If I could munch guilt-free on calorie-catastrophic hors d’oeuvres, I wouldn’t worry about making conversations with friends of friends – otherwise known as strangers. In response to their inevitable question of “What do you do?” I say, “I’m an in-house manager for a non-profit organization that’s very involved with human development”. Translated that means I’m a housewife and mother.
To be able to discuss whatever subjects these friends of friends want to discuss, I’ve created a collection of non-committal comments. “That question is beyond question”. “That’s a product of being politically correct today”. “Indecision can be a wise decision”. With these comments I can be part of the conversations without actually saying anything.
Okay, once I’m at a party, I feel less dazed; and yes, I have a good time. Parties are fun times with no dishes to wash or checks to pay. There is, however, a hovering, haunting, holidaze catch. There’s an unwritten – but definitely not forgotten – rule about parties. One who goes to parties must give parties – and I’ll still have the problem of what to wear.
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