Unless you live under a rock, you’ve probably heard of #whamageddon. I do live under a rock most of the time and on one, so I get to say this with pride. The object of the game is to not hear the song “Last Christmas” by WHAM. It’s one of the most overplayed songs so it can be quite hard to avoid as a rule. By the first couple of days in December, most of my friends had lost.

This holiday season I feel a bit more Grinchy then I have in years past. Small things like Whamageddon have given me something to hold onto. It’s been a number of small things that have sort of culminated into me feeling a bit less jolly about the holidays than those around me. I think part of it is the sheer lack of decorations. It sounds dumb but decorations really do put me in the holiday mood. No sparkles, or ornaments on the tree, no candy on the walls, no decorations, no nothing, no nothing at all. I will admit, decorating my door at work this year, helped. As did dressing up every day this week for spirit week.

My favorite holiday movie is a Muppet Christmas Carol, and I can’t find it to watch. Dumb, but it is still just one more small thing that has kept me a bit more down this season. I watch it every year and I can’t find it to stream anywhere and my copy is packed away. I’ve watched several other holiday movies, but it still doesn’t feel like December until we light the lamp not the rat, light the lamp not the rat!

A large part of it is about family. My uncle, who is like the grandfather I never had, is really quite sick. And for a while, we weren’t sure if he’d make it through Thanksgiving. I’m going to go spend the holidays with him and my aunt. I can’t imagine spending time with anyone else during my holiday break. Life is short and I know first hand how quickly it can be taken. I’d regret for the rest of my life, not going if he didn’t get better. I can’t live with that regret. So I leave Monday.

Maybe not the last reason but the final one I’ll say on here, is I’ve hosted a Christmas party every year for so many years I can’t even remember when it started. It’s always been something. A stray-cat Christmas for few, where I had a revolving door for hours and it was amazing. Lots of dinners served with some of the best conversations. A few years ago I started a new tradition, called the Sock Party. Food, and great conversation, and a gift exchange where everyone stuffs two fun or colorful socks. In a perfect world, they are themed and fun. Not everyone gets it the first time around but everyone has a blast. At the end we all put on our new socks and take a group photo.

This year I wasn’t going to have one. It’s the first time in YEARS that I wasn’t hosting some sort of holiday party. I feel like it’s the one day in a month of crazy, where everyone I love takes the time to just be. Talk about sad panda. I’ve been asked several times when the party is and if someone’s invite was misplaced and I always get a little more down when the topic comes up. Because I’m going out of town, I just couldn’t quite plan it. I was talking to my mother… okay I was complaining. She said, “So, let’s plan it anyway.” I sort of looked at her as if she’d grown a set of antlers. How? When? She suggested in January. She’s truly a brilliant woman. So I’m having the party anyway. In January. Because why not?! I look forward to this party every year. So what if its a couple of weeks late. It just means everyone’s calenders should be empty.

Right?

Whamageddon sounds dorky but I’ve enjoyed my avoidance of Last Christmas. Admittedly when it came on during the assembly today I stomped my feet and yelled (not that anyone could hear me over the noise). My coworkers looked at me, eyes wide. What is wrong?! Whamageddon, I explained. I’ve avoided this damn song for two weeks and here it is. Damn teenagers! So initially I filmed it and posted it online like the Grinch I was embodying. But then I took it down and wrote this blog instead.  If you want to watch the video, it’s below. I suppose losing Whamageddon isn’t the end of the world.

I just really like to win things.