Christmas Parties

   I went to a work-related Christmas party with my mother the other night. I was definitely the youngest person there, and every conversation I was engaged in went like this;

Person: Oh my gosh, I didn't even recognize you! How are you doing?

Me: Good! How are you?

Person: Good! What school are you at?

Me: Concordia.

Person: And what are you studying?

Me: Creative Writing.

Person: Thats great. Montreal's a great city.

Me: Yeah, it really is!

THE END.

   I am not even kidding around here. That was literally every conversation I had. And every time I was being discussed while I wasn't around, people were telling my mom how I have turned into a lady (granted, most of these people hadn't seen me since I was 12, and I was wearing very tall shoes). I don't know why these people don't say these nice things to my face, as if my mother is the sounding board for all compliments. I guess they just want to congratulate her on a job well done?

   One digression from the dialogue I've given, was when I was with my mum a lot of the time people would say, "and where's David?" (David is my cool dad). And we would say, "Ethiopia". The looks on their faces were a thousand times more satisfying than the vegan pasta dinner options. Baffled party guests would then ask if we were serious, and want details. But how much detail can you really give about your globe-trotting, dream-pursuing, inspirational cool dad at a Christmas party? My answer to everyone's questions were usually just something like, "he's running away and never coming back" or "I better get some cool presents" *hint*hint*hint*hint* #Iknowhereadsthisblogwhilehe'saway.

   What I'm getting at is that Christmas parties are boring unless the food is good, and/or unless your dad is a cool ass globetrotter, and/or people think you look really fierce in that dress which justifies its purchase last summer even though you've only worn it twice.