The Christmas Party
What is it with Australians and fancy dress? Even more important - what is with Australians and fancy dress for a Christmas party?????? I really think they should introduce Hallowe'en here - maybe a mandatory fancy dress party on the same day every year will diminish Australians' need for fancy dress on any other day - like it has in North America. That can only be a change for the good...
Do they not understand that Christmas is a religious event? or at the very least, about Santa Claus? I don't see how dressing like Hollywood stars really helps to uphold the original meaning of the holiday - but whatever..
So what else was different? And why am I obsessing about the differences? Well, life as an ex-pat is proving to have its challenges for me - and I'm hoping that blogging about it will turn out to be a better alternative to either:
1- packing up and going home, or
2 - venting to new found friends and colleagues.
Why are those options not really viable? Well, I believe option 1 is quitting - and I'm just not ready to quit yet and well option 2? Well, if I use that one anymore, I'll probably lose those new found friends....
Okay, back to my original story. So what was different at this Christmas party? Well, aside from the fancy dress theme the biggest difference was the temperature. I never thought I'd say this - but I miss the cold. It just doesn't feel like Christmas if I can go out without a coat and there's no time speculating as to whether it will snow in time for Christmas. I mean - there's absolutely NO chance of it snowing here ever - let alone at Christmas. Hmmm, you can take the girl out of Canada, but you can't take the Canada out of the girl..
But there were similarities. There was the usual jockeying of political players at the party - the up and comers trying to spend time with those in the know; the die-hards talking work even though it was a party; the wallflowers dying for time to pass quicker so its acceptable for them to leave and of course, the excessive drinking that pervaded everything else.
But it was fun. I drank. Got drunk. But not too drunk. Had a laugh, had a dance and enjoyed spending time with some of my colleagues. Bobbed and weaved to a cab - barefoot because my feet were not only bruised from people stepping on them - but bruised from walking and dancing in strappy shoes I hadn't worn in ages. Drunk dialled my best friend back home and nicely passed out on the phone inthe middle of talking to her 5 year old daughter.
Guess it wasn't really so different after all....
Do they not understand that Christmas is a religious event? or at the very least, about Santa Claus? I don't see how dressing like Hollywood stars really helps to uphold the original meaning of the holiday - but whatever..
So what else was different? And why am I obsessing about the differences? Well, life as an ex-pat is proving to have its challenges for me - and I'm hoping that blogging about it will turn out to be a better alternative to either:
1- packing up and going home, or
2 - venting to new found friends and colleagues.
Why are those options not really viable? Well, I believe option 1 is quitting - and I'm just not ready to quit yet and well option 2? Well, if I use that one anymore, I'll probably lose those new found friends....
Okay, back to my original story. So what was different at this Christmas party? Well, aside from the fancy dress theme the biggest difference was the temperature. I never thought I'd say this - but I miss the cold. It just doesn't feel like Christmas if I can go out without a coat and there's no time speculating as to whether it will snow in time for Christmas. I mean - there's absolutely NO chance of it snowing here ever - let alone at Christmas. Hmmm, you can take the girl out of Canada, but you can't take the Canada out of the girl..
But there were similarities. There was the usual jockeying of political players at the party - the up and comers trying to spend time with those in the know; the die-hards talking work even though it was a party; the wallflowers dying for time to pass quicker so its acceptable for them to leave and of course, the excessive drinking that pervaded everything else.
But it was fun. I drank. Got drunk. But not too drunk. Had a laugh, had a dance and enjoyed spending time with some of my colleagues. Bobbed and weaved to a cab - barefoot because my feet were not only bruised from people stepping on them - but bruised from walking and dancing in strappy shoes I hadn't worn in ages. Drunk dialled my best friend back home and nicely passed out on the phone inthe middle of talking to her 5 year old daughter.
Guess it wasn't really so different after all....
posted by lala at
10:01 PM
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