The Holidays. Halloween has come and gone, and now it's time for the in-your-pajamas-all-day, crispy weather, hot-cocoa-with-marshmallows kind of holidays. They seem so innocent. So warm and fuzzy. So nonthreatening.
And then reality hits, as all the ferocious elements of the season seem to push their way in. There's the food. It looks delicious. It is delicious. But it's also what's standing between you and looking good naked for the rest of the year. Then there's family. Love them or hate them, come Thanksgiving, you will be confronted by them. There's mom and dad, siblings, cousins, grandparents and, invariably, some crazy aunt or uncle who smells like quiche. And on top of it all? The workload: your teachers think that they've mastered the firm-but-kind methodology by only assigning some "light reading" for the long weekend, but they forget that War and Peace doesn't charm us quite as much as the back of a Fruit Loops box does. So what do you do? There are a few approaches, all of which should create, if not an enjoyable weekend, at least a trauma-free one.
Try not listening to anyone or anything all weekend long. Think of a song you like and hum it to yourself Thursday through Monday. When people address you, just nod, smile and keep right on walking. This, of course, might backfire when your Aunt Barb asks for a ride to her water aerobics class, but as long as she's trying to get exercise, the walk will do her some good.
Fake an illness. This method not only allows for minimal contact with irritating extended family members, but also allows for the peace and quiet you need to finish all your work. And who doesn't want to be pampered in bed? Plus, if you don't want to hurt mom's feelings by refusing dinner, you can claim that your "stomach's not up to it just yet." This, too, might backfire when your grandma orchestrates an hour-long skit, performed by all your shrill-voiced cousins, to "cheer you up."
The drastic measure: drop your last name, get a tattoo and move out West with your hog-buddies. but that's a lot of effort to escape one measly family weekend. And you know you don't look good enough in those leather pants to ever find true happiness on a Harley.
One last suggestion: suck it up. Slack off on your work. Talk to Grandpa Jack and let him chew your ear off about his high school sweetheart and Sinatra. Help your mom cook. Play with your baby cousins. And get fat. Pumpkin pie is scrumptious, and you can afford to have some fun. You've got five months until bikini weather.
