Naughty or nice

I know I know, everybody wants to hear about Christmas here.

It's different. I noticed already in early December that the Christmas tree placed in the middle of the roundabout feels odd to me. Later on I noticed that something was about to happen because the road to the airport was flooded with a mass of people even thicker than the usual. I didn't think that was possible. Normally it's two lanes' worth of space filled with three lanes' worth of cars, tsukudus, motorbikes, buses, surrounded with pedestrians. Now it's the pedestrians taking up about two lanes' space, and the vehicles struggling in the rest.

By the third week of December the place started to look empty, one could dance tango in the cafeteria (except one never does tango alone, so let's say two couples could easily tango in the cafet), and those staying here founnd each other in the vast emptiness and started planning their „holiday” activities. It isn't really much of a holiday, 24 December is supposedly a normal working day, with 25 being a day off and 26 a working day again. There were rumours of an „everybody get out of here at 2” email on the 24, but I never receieved it, and spent most of my afternoon in the bank (where the simplest transaction of cash withdrawal takes 8 minutes per client, but that's another story).

So Wednesday evening we met at somebody's place, basically to not be alone and to discuss the details of the „real” Christmas party the next day.

Thursday, the 25, found me dancing in the kitchen at half past nine. Then later on, in other people's kitchens. An apron tour, Goma-style. We were supposed to arrive to the party's secret and charming location by 2 the afternoon, but the host called at quarter past asking us to pick up some tabasco on the way, and to tell that in case we had some potatos, we may as well bring them...

Once arrived to the Lake House, I managed to put on a show worthy of Modern Family, while working the pizza dough dressed up to the nines, and shouting to the people from the kitchen that they should finish that garlic bread already. Apart from this, I think I behaved in a rather acceptable way, I only had to kick off my shoes to go to the oven in the garden, and commissioning somebody to steal the wannabe Christmas decoration red tie from the wannabe Christmas tree bush happened a lot later.

There was some gift exchange as well, my household now has some wine glasses as result.

I only tell this for jealousy's/bragging's sake, but the party was originally planned to be a swimsuit lake party, but that day the weather was a bit chilly (we celebrated the three days of Christmas with cold showers, because it was overcast with no sunshine and those times there is no hot water in the house), and we convinced the boys to dress up decently so we could wear our red dresses.

The next day we all had lefotver lunch together at somebody else's, and somehow the pizza dough kept growing, so we managed to feed a few people off it even on the evening of the 26.

Then came Saturday, quiet, at home, but Sunday found us all together again, for lunch, for movies, for snacks. And Monday came way to suddenly (see also Melanie C on this topic), and I was rather happy to have another weekend before the New Year's haze so I can get some rest, but then after signing and dating many papers I had to accept that there is two days left of this year.

I have a strange relationship with time in general. After the three days of cold showers the weather became sunny, warm, shiny. This, combined wiht random days off in the middle of the week, and me having spent the last two weeks with the same ten people, always in somebody else's kitchen, resulted in my brain going to the playa, and my body really wanting to follow it. I have difficulties accepting this whole end of the year business when I feel that I should be in the Heikkilas' (dark and cool) living room, wathcing terrible music videos from the '90s. I had a (couple of) G&Ts to help this feeling, but honestly, I'm convinced it's summer.