Sunday, December 14, 2008

Social Butterfly

Things lost over the weekend:
- One glove
- A sweater
- The contents of my stomach
- Sleep

Things gained over the weekend:
- A New CD
- The sweater of a stranger
- Whiskey, wine, champagne, wine, beer, and passion fruit rum (down the hatch, in no particular order!)
- Moments of total hilarity with new friends
- Seven million bisous
-
Random pains from so much dancing

It's safe to say that the things I lost are far less than what I have gained (don't ask my liver I think it disagrees), but it's sure that I am no good at this partying like a rock star thing. I am ridiculously tired and completely unmotivated to do anything except pace around my apartment and talk to my friends back in the states. Its cold and I have not gotten out of my pajamas, nor do I intend to. The only thing I really want is a big greasy omelette with fried potatoes and someone to curl up with and watch a movie. That would be the perfect end to the weekend, I think.

Alas, my fridge is empty like my apartment. Boo.

I thought about how many parties I've been to in the past two weeks or so and at first I was sort of surprised by it. I thought, "Wow, this is what happens when your happy, I guess! People want to hang out with you!" This may be true but then I realized that this is every holiday season for me. I always find myself completely worn out from the festivities, recovering from a hangover, tired all the week. It was like this last year as well. I wouldn't have it any other way, of course. For me the holidays are about being with people. The doors of my heart open to any one who wants to celebrate with me, and celebrate we do.

Last year I threw an amazing caroling party. It ended up on craigslist somehow and by the time I had prepared the coquito and hot apple cider, I had a house full of strangers. One of my guests had taken the initiative to print out and tie together actual song books and she led the group in a practice as we warmed ourselves with the spiked nog and wine.

It wasn't terribly cold that night and so we were happy to take our time in front of houses, singing requests and chatting with whomever opened their doors. People were so thrilled to see us, I couldn't help but feel a little proud of myself for orchestrating such joy for so many people.

As we wrapped up the night I knew we had to stop at one particular house in the neighborhood. Each year the little old man strung his house with so many lights it looked like daytime, and in his yard were an assortment of lawn reindeer, inflatable snowmen and an entire collection of dancing Santas. He had them all - the James Brown Santa, the Snoopy Santa, the Homer Simpson Santa - and they all danced at once. Each night he took special care to put them out and each night he brought them inside. He was so proud of his display that he would sit by his door and wait for people to come by to see it, offering candy canes from a bowl left out on the sidewalk.

He was there, of course, when we arrived and it's possible that no one was more happy to see us that night than him.

"Wait here!" he said as we started to sing. Quickly he dashed in his house and we all waited to see what he would come out with.

He returned with spoons in hand.

"Okay, go what are we going to sing? I like Feliz Navidad."

"Feliz Navidad then!" I replied. By now I was floating on a magically high of laughter and music.

We sang every single refrain of Feliz Navidad and he accompanied us with the spoons. We followed that with another upbeat song before leaving a trail of musical Christmas notes down the street.

It was virtually unforgettable and I would surely do it if I was there now. But this year is an "orphan Christmas" meant to be spent with anyone who wants to share some of the joy I am so craving. Rest assured I won't be turning down any invitations between now and the new year, cooking up some invitations of my own. Maybe I'll lose the other glove along the way...

4 comments:

Jan said...

Ooh, sounds like you've having a wonderful time! It's great!!

Jan said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Ms. Anon said...

Maybe you could convince some of your friends in the States to stop by the house where the man with the spoons lives and sing carols again. Tell them to tell him you send "greetings from France." It would be a nice way to continue your tradition. Merry Christmas to you.

Evolutionary Revolutionary said...

That is a great idea Ms. Anon! I love this idea so much I've already put it out there. We'll see if I can facilitate it. ;)

Merry Christmas to you both!