Christmas Hangover (Thanks, Santa!)

My family Christmas was, I guess, a success.

There was no fighting, no under-handed comments, no passive aggressive activity.

Probably because we all got fucking plastered and the assholes in the family left early.

Most of you know, I'm sure, that I don't really drink all that much. A glass of wine here and there, two if something terrible is happening.

I had between seven and twelveteen last night. (Yes, twelveteen is a word.)

See, my aptly named Uncle Dick was buying. We had wine at the house, we had wine at the restaurant, we had wine, wine, wine. And we drank ALL OF IT.

I had not seen my cousins since my father's funeral. I had not seen a close friend of the family in over two years. We were talking, laughing, enjoying ourselves over a few glasses of wine at dinner. (and before.)

When we returned to chez cousin, and the assholes (and one good person) left, the drinking began again in earnest. Now we could discuss the inner workings of the family, be frank and honest with one another--and the wine just went down so easily!

We awoke this morning with roaring, tangible hangovers.

Merry Christmas--who didn't see this coming?

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In other news, I am so fucking fed up with the assholes in my family I have informed them that I am moving the fuck out.

I'm not sure where I'm going, but I have three out of state offers of places to go, and daily they look more tempting.

You can wait tables anywhere, I keep telling myself.

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I will probably not be able to post again until after Christmas proper, as my job apparently wants me dead and in the ground by February.

I hope you all have Merry Christmases and a Happy New Year.

(And will someone tell me where I should move?)