Whine and Cheese Party: Complain About your Holidays Here!

Welcome to the First Annual Daily Kos Whine and Cheese Party, where you can bitch, kvetch, whine, and complain about everything that went wrong over the holidays. Did you Republican wingnut uncle lecture you on how a Democrat in the White House  will take this country straight downhill?  Tell us.  And you Aunt Matilda, who joined a fundamentalist church—did she inform you that you were goin’ to hell for being gay or Wiccan or Jewish or Catholic or atheist or living in that Sodom and Gomorrah (NYC, SF, L.A. Boston— anyliberal city)?  Did you SO give you a power tool for Christmas—when what you longed for was something for Victoria’s secret?  Or perhaps you got after shave when what you really wanted was a power tool? Did you get drunk at the office party and make a pass at the boss's bodacious wife? Share the misery!

Sometimes we all need a little whine to go with our cheese (wine can help too, though). Consider this an excuse not to speculate about the Bhutto assassination or get riled at another candidate diary.

As for me, I don’t have an In-Law Christmas Horror Story straight out of Faulkner by way of Steven King this year. Nope. Nuthin’ happened.  No, this isn’t proof that the End Times are at hand. But a Small Miracle did occur.

You see, my husband came down with the Plague  right after hid finals.  And he gave it to me  on the fifth day before Christmas.  And since Christmas was gonna be at the sis-in-law’s house, I had a built-in reason to leave if it go too annoying.  As it turned out, I barely got to greet my nephew and tell the Sis-In-Law with abut dissertation in Gifted Education (the one who voted for Bush because Gore was too smart)  not to come too close so she didn’t get what I had—when my husband entered bearing baked goods, took one look at the assembled relatives, handed over the baked goods—and said, "I don’t wanna do this."  So we went home.

We ate leftover roast beef from Christmas Eve’s prime rib.  I took a hot bath and read in bed, and we had a lovely quiet, non-stressful Christmas hanging out together, just the two of us. And MiL didn’t even get pissed off. She was just fine.  And we only have one more Christmas en famille to go!  Eighteen more months living under someone else’s roof!

So, what about the rest of you? Who was naughty? Who was nice? Who would you like to give coal to next year? Whom are you definitely not gonna visit next year?