Holiday Hangover

I now understand the human term “overindulgence.” I have also learned a new term: “hangover.”

My current state is due to my first experience with the Holiday season. My understanding is that the holiday most humans in this region of the world are referring to is Christmas. Christmas is, from my understanding, when humans celebrate the birth of the offspring of the Supreme Being of the universe (or this world, depending on your point of view) who then grew up to save the world by getting nailed to a tree by the conquering Pagan nation, who did not believe in said Supreme Being but several others. The celebration primarily consists of the pagan tradition of presenting and exchanging gifts under a deciduous tree, eating a day-long feast (which seems to me is quite a bit like Thanksgiving), and consuming copious amounts of alcohol.

This research of mine may be incomplete, however, due to two factors. 1) Most of this information I gathered at my neighbor’s Christmas party where the feast and alcohol was served. 2) I am currently recovering from the consumption of that alcohol, which is a quite painful process called a hangover.

The weekend started innocently enough. My sister has off of school for the week because if is closed over the holiday, so I thought this would be an ideal time for us to have what the common parlance calls “family time,” which was in fact my very thin excuse to keep her away from that boyfriend of hers I do not care for. For once, she did not seem to mind, and we spent much of the past several days decorating the house for the season—everyone else on the block seemed to be, so I thought we should fit in—and partaking in the common arts culture of going to the movies.

When I was not avoiding her constant questions about how my date was with April, we saw the sad story of a magical boy on the run, a very enlightening tale of the rise of England’s King George VI, and a surprisingly gripping account a young man who had to cut his own arm off after being trapped under a boulder for five days.

Then on Friday, my always-friendly neighbor queried as to what our plans were for Christmas. Having noticed him taking his family to the local place of worship, I thought it would be safe to explain that Madison and I were not religious. That did not seem to bother him, but he insisted that we go over to his house for Christmas dinner on Saturday.

I was surprised when he insisted that I not bring anything, since he knows of my fondness for cooking. Nonetheless, we arrived early in the afternoon to find a feast that was even bigger than what had been prepared for Thanksgiving. Even more lavish were the decorations—strings of lights, big red bows everywhere, and a ten foot tall pine tree in the center of their living room hung from to bottom with sparkling ornaments.

I honestly do not remember much of the rest of the day. From what I recall his entire family was there, including about a dozen children, all nieces and nephews and cousins, who tore into the gifts under the tree while we ate and drank.

Now, I have enjoyed a glass of wine with a meal on occasion. One thing I have learned from all those cooking shows. However, I have always been very aware not to consume too much alcohol because I am still not sure how it will affect me. I had a glass of wine, and there was an after dinner cognac served, so I felt I could indulge in one glass. What I was not expecting were the chocolates.

My neighbors make these chocolates that I later learned are filled with a most potent bourbon, but having not recognized the taste, I found them delightful. Apparently, the batch was a bit stronger than usual, according to my dear neighbor, but that did not stop me from eating about a dozen of them after dinner. That number is also an estimate based on what Madison later told me. They were so intoxicating that my sister needed help carrying me home.

So, here I am, recovering from my first Christmas. I must admit, it was enjoyable until this recovery process. My sister and I did receive our first Christmas gift from our neighbors, a small artificial tree that sits on the kitchen table. It is a nice decoration.

Also, I do not know what brought this about, but I received a text message from April wishing me a Merry Christmas. I do not know if I did something or if Madison is behind this, but I do not understand human women.