I don't know about you but I've always preferred the run up to the big day rather than the day itself, or the mind numbing, toblerone and bad film filled days that lull endlessly between xmas and new year… The few weeks prior to xmas are filled with mince pies, Starbucks red cups, twinkly lights, office gatherings, frantic online shopping and the insane need to see everyone you know before the end of the year for some inexplicable reason.
It all culminates in the staff party (lethal, hilarious and one where I always promise to be sober and then end up drinking quadruple vodkas and dragging some poor defenceless boy onto the dance floor by his tie, because you see in that moment, I am 10 foot tall, bullet proof with moves like Jagger), followed by a brief period of regret, and then a mad rush around as I try to make sure I have all gifts sorted and enough milk in the fridge to stock a dairy.
Yes, I was even the girl who cried on the stairs at the party… an old favourite tradition of mine, but one I haven't pulled out in a while. Lord knows what was so distressing at that particular vodka fuelled moment - but taking a wild stab in the dark, I think I am filled with fear and sadness about leaving my job in about 7 weeks. I've knocked around my work place since 2008 and being someone who is 1. over emotional anyway and 2. not great at change, the whole leaving thing (which I have done before several times) is pretty daunting. It is necessary and I need to be able to juggle less than I'm doing at the moment - but it still isn't easy. Oh to be the person who has all the answers in life… Colleagues were also uber lovely, saying how I'd be missed - which is something you NEVER do to a less than sober person with PMT. Because there is nothing worse than people be especially lovely when you are an emotional drunk anyway. Better they throw some red wine down your dress or flirt with your husband - all much easier to handle.
Last year I inadvertently started a tradition with some buddies at work. Over a chat about Xmas films, one admitted she had never seen 'Trading Places.' Criminal I know. Who the hell hasn't watched Trading Places at Xmas and if that is you - hang your head in shame. It is the BEST. So I bought Lauren the DVD - and then other two colleagues sitting nearby bleated for a bit about where was their gift, so I duly bought them some movies I thought they'd enjoy. Krus got St Elmo's Fire because again, if you haven't seen it - have you got a pulse?? Quite asides from Rob Lowe's famously non ironic 'Let's Rock' line, I'm always gutted that I have never had a Billy/Wendy moment in my life - where he asks for a 'special' leaving gift before he goes… In that era, NO woman would have said no… It is the most 80s of all 80s films and that John Parr song is brilliant - I say this with a completely straight face. I have no shame… Krus has yet to watch it. A YEAR LATER, BUT I AM NOT BITTER. Thea got Door in the Floor, which I love - the first act in the John Irving book, Widow for One Year. Starring Jeff Bridges. Most folk have never heard of it. Watch it. And before you ask, I love it not because I secretly want to get up to what Kim Basinger gets up to…(even though I am known for my crushes on younger men) but because of the deep sadness that is the subtext of every scene.
This year, the DVD choice was simpler - Krus loves Glenn Close and thrillers = Jagged Edge. I may be trapped in the 80s.. Thea got Tootsie, because it is brilliant and such a simple idea and Hoffman is incredible. And did I mention I am trapped in the 80s? Lauren had NEVER seen Jaws, which is unbelievable. Even Sproglette has seen Jaws and she is 3. So Lauren got the anniversary edition and thank god not another 80s film…
They bought me in return such thoughtful gifts - including some gay porn (only joking Thea, I know it is a love story…) and an inappropriate T shirt that has two plump xmas puddings right where my boobs are - but the T shirt is so damn tight it turns me into one giant mono-boob instead…
It is a strange old beast Xmas - filled with expectation and a need to feel 'chrissmassy.' Whatever that is. I'm off to the money haemorrhaging adventure that is the Hyde Park Winter Wonderland on Xmas Eve to take my son ice skating. The kid hasn't mastered roller skates yet so there is a high chance we'll be spending Xmas in Casualty… If that all doesn't get me festive - nothing will. Sproglette wants a castle and pirates for Xmas as that is what all 3 year old girls want, no? Husband is already working out how he can get pissed on Xmas eve and build the fecking thing… As there would be nothing worse than a disappointed kid on Xmas morning…
So whatever traditions you are engaging in: mulled cider (vile stuff) and eggnog, carols at the church because it is what you do every xmas even though you never set foot in a church otherwise, stockings hung with hope, fizz at breakfast, the 'Xmas day walk' - come rain or shine, the neighbours boxing day gathering where you relive tales of your misspent youth with their kids, the annual meet up of old buddies where you all pretend that your lives are great and thank god you all moved to London unlike the folk who stayed behind but live in houses that have downstairs loos bigger than your London flat, the family row that refuses to die, the old lady at no 63 who smells of cat piss but you always visit and she gives you a Terry's Orange for your trouble, the bin men you never catch, the tedium of boxing day board games, the joy in the gatherings - have a bloody good one. It is Christmas. Don't worry, you won't have to do it again for another a year.
See you on the other side. Big love. CM x
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