To say I felt certifiably insane spending the holidays sober is an understatement. I actually think alcoholism started BECAUSE of the holidays. Being sober at any social gathering on a normal day is enough to decide you’re into tequila again, let alone the the most crucial drinking days of the year. Did I mention it was also my birthday? Yeah, five days before Christmas. I wasn’t even given a chance. I was born to drink at social gatherings. It’s bad enough I get my Christmas gifts lumped in with my birthday gifts and I’m forced to play dumb and grateful about it. Oh, and this year I tied a nice little anxious bow on things: I went to the middle of bum fuck nowhere to see snow with a new love interest! I have like an hour of material, tops! But, six hours? forget about it! There’s only so many times you can joke about how lonely it’s been the last two years before it becomes depressing and creepy.
2021 did bring a lot of firsts this holiday season. I had my first big birthday party totally sober— I’m just gonna stop it right here and say for those of you who’ve never attempted to endure the holidays sober, stop reading. You probably won’t relate. This might also scare you out of doing it. In fact, most people won’t relate to this article because really it’s an over-explained bad inside joke. You had to be there, and you weren’t, nor did you want to be. What can I say? My brain is weird, full of strange, destructive ideas like when I jumped in the snow naked. At first it was kinda sexy, but then I had to take it too far and ask my new love to snap a few pics: “Please, honey! It’s for my Instagram!” “Baby, come on! I said I need the photo! No, I don’t care if I’m getting frostbite, get a lower angle.” Or, when I accidentally ate some suspicious looking chocolate and almost got arrested for public indecency. I was trippin my balls off while having explosive diarrhea in the alley of a Christmas light show. These are the things you don’t really write home about, but you do drink to forget.
If you read that chapter in my book about my disastrous big Italian Christmas dinner last year and are expecting something similar, I’m sorry you’ll be disappointed. Because, this year, I spent the holidays without any family. See, my grandparents were on a cruise (still living that post vaccine life, like they’re twenty-five) and my parents were on vacation… So, my friends became my family and I’m now that obnoxious uncle no one wants to invite. Yes, the uncle.
I memorized talking points for all these holiday parties. You know, in case there was an awkward moment of conversation where I felt I needed a drink. But, somehow, I went off script. Let’s just say I became my own entertainment. I accidentally stirred up some drama by asking uncomfortable questions. What can I say? I’d finished Netflix. My sober life is also surprisingly calm. So, did I crave some juicy gossip? I wouldn’t go that far. But, did I enjoy it? Yes! Who am I kidding, I LOVE CHAOS.
I found out one of my neighbors thinks the other has a stalker level attraction to him and has been secretly filming him walking past his house each day. But, who’s stalking who there? I found out my fellow lesbian neighbors are dabbling in polyamory and their house is now called the “orgy house.” Why wasn’t I invited to any of these orgies? Do I even want to go? Maybe. Do I need to be invited? ABSOLUTELY. I found out the group of old Jewish men who always meet at that bagel joint are now meetin’ every morning for lox and crypto tips. (They have an inside scoop from this Jewish GenZ kid.) I also found out a cougar—I won’t say who it is, but she lives on the beach — has been recruiting lifeguards for some unconventional mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. No chance she’s sober. Shes also my spirit animal. Now this one was juicy because I sensed some jealousy among the other lifeguards. I guess they didn’t know about each other…
I found out that the HOA in this big expensive building down the street is holding meetings about whether to implement a no nudity policy because the walls are all glass and the neighbors have been getting complaints. And of course I found out a host of conspiracies from my very opinionated neighbor who’s always loudly building something. Not wanting him to feel left out, I added my two cents: it’s the plates and the plate industry that’s causing all this confusion. Who told everyone in Italy to break plates around the holidays? Have you heard of the smashing plates? It’s a big thing. Well, they do it every year and who’s making all this money off the broken plates? And, where do all the broken plates go? These are questions no one’s answering that I want to know. (This is the best way to out conspiracy a conspiracy theorist.)
A lot of people say the holidays are depressing because there’s so much pressure. But, I see it as an opportunity to display all the new skills I’ve acquired each year, like guitar. Can I really play? No. Have I spent the year learning in anticipation of a caroling opportunity? Yes. So, I went around my block, spreading Christmas cheer. I was surprised to learn many people have never seen a caroler in real life before. And, I think after seeing me, maybe they still haven’t. One guy offered me lessons for free!... if I’d stop playing. I also learned to sculpt ceramics. So, I made everyone a unique sculpture—I call it abstract art—and made sure to pay them a visit just a few days after Christmas, checking to see if my phallic shaped art was on display. And, if it wasn’t—which, let me tell you, some people just don’t appreciate good art—then, I made sure to let them know I was offended.
So, what does all of this have to do with sobriety? I’m just trying to show you there are many ways you can entertain yourself without having a drink over the holidays. Now, I know, it’s been a while since I’ve last post an article. So, in case you were wondering I’ve been banned from Wang’s Cleaners. We have an arrangement. I told him I could use the exposure of him putting my head shot up on the wall and he said he’d put it up if I never came back. So If any directors or whatever are in Venice, it’s on the wall beside Barbra Streisand. Wang is over. I have a new love—you know, cuffed up for the season—who hasn’t seen any of my dirty laundry. I started dating someone just in time for the birthday gifts, Hanukkah gifts, Christmas gifts (of course)—and, did I mention I celebrate Kwanzaa?
I hope you’ve had happy holidays this year and I promise you if you decide to not drink on New Years it won’t be the end of the world. Eh and you might have a little fun.