Ho fucking Ho.
About 5 weeks ago, I promised myself that I wouldn't drink for 100 days.
Don't ask.
All I'm going to say, is it had something to do with a white pashmina scarf, a bar named The Cock and some vomit.
Nothing to see here.
Needless to say, the cheer in my holiday has been a bit, well, cheerless.
I don't think I've been dry at a party since my 8th birthday.
Don't get me wrong. I love people and I love parties but making conversation with drunk people when you're sober, is an art form. It's not dissimilar to engaging in conversation with your fat, annoying Aunt that smells like spit at your Bar-Mitzvah or having a catch with your retarded cousin. It's not impossible but you need to focus.
Alcohol is to a party like Auto Pilot is to an airplane. You don't have to pay attention after you hand over the controls. You just coast on through.
Last week I had three Holiday parties to attend. I didn't exactly have a game plan, or any game for that matter but I figured I'd give it a shot.
I banged out two of them back to back during the week. I'll be honest, I didn't miss the alcohol at all. As a matter of fact, I had a very nice time. I was coherent. I didn't hug anyone I wasn't supposed to and I actually got home when I said I would.
Go figure.
Ironically, the only part of my prohibition that might prove to be difficult for me, is the consumption of non-alcoholic beverages. I must have drank a liter of diet Coke, 5 or 10 Orange Juices (straight up) and a shit load of Club Soda. God that stuff is horrible. It's like drinking carbonated saline solution. I probably pissed a bucket each night. Oh and do me a favor. Keep your dirty lemons and limes out of my soda. I don't want your H1N1 in my drink. Thank you very much.
The third party was the one that had me nervous...
My 3 year old's, Pre-School Holiday party.
I don't think there is a parent in the lot that stays sober at those things. It's practically impossible to keep your wits about you. Nervous MILF's chasing after their kids. Toddlers screaming and shitting themselves underneath tables. Dads standing around drinking Coors Light, checking football scores on their Blackberry's. It's like a damn war zone and there's always a truck load of casualties.
I swear to God the DJ played Sir Mix-A-Lot's, "Baby Got Back". Who plays that song at a toddler party?
Excerpt, "Baby Got Back"
I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung, wanna pull out your tough
'Cause you notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop staring
Oh baby, I wanna get with you
And take your picture
My homeboys tried to warn me
But that butt you got makes me so horny.
Takes creepy to a whole new level.
But the good news, is that if I had been drinking, I might have slapped one of my daughter's teachers in the ass.
Not the new Jay.
I only touch my own ass.
In addition to the dancing, my daughter performed in her very first dramatic role. She was cast as the Dreidel in the Holiday show. Kind of a shitty part. She's like the Oliver Platt of Pre-School.
Doesn't matter.
She nailed it.
And it made me proud. I bet if she knew how many diet Cokes I drank, she'd be proud of me too.
The only thing that's going to Out-Number me during the Holidays, will be diet Cokes and smiles...
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