An Ode to December

College students around the nation each view the 12th month differently.  From “My goodness, it’s December already?” to “HOLY DEMON SH*T HELL, WHEN THE F*CK WILL FINALS BE OVER!?”

I, for one, have expressed both of these views, as well as a multitude of ones in between.  Fortunately, my December has blessed me with a slightly lighter load–only two exams.  I have my professors to thank for that.  Alas, more time to complete this dedication the the last month of 2010.

To begin, December is famous for one thing–Holidays.  With that comes frantic shopping, snow, annoying festive music, and bitter cold.  And I do mean bitter.  The brisk wind slaps you in the face without even a simple apology.  It makes my walks into work quite disheartening.  To make things worse, that bitter, unforgiving, tear-jerking weather lasts until well after New Year’s.

How, you so eagerly ask, do I still love December?  I answer you honestly: I don’t.

December and I have a tolerate/hate relationship.  There is no love.  Just mild, grumbling toleration.

Imagine you’re hosting a party.  It’s a quiet, cozy party of close friends enjoying spinach and artichoke dip with pita chips, mutually-appreciated music, and homemade drinks.  Now imagine, right in the middle of telling an enchanting and seemingly hilarious story to your friends, another guest stomps in.  Crushing what was sure to be a great punchline to your story.

This guest is dressed in a dirty boots, a worn-out jacket, and carries a 30-pack of cheap beer.  Others greet him, thinking you’ve invited him and he’s supposed to be here, just a little late.  But you stay seated, glaring at the unwanted, unwarranted guest, fuming as he mouths off about some Cadillac that cut him off as he got off the grid-locked highway to get here.  That’s why he was late.

Within minutes, a guest (one of the originally invited ones) approaches you, asking if it’s OK that they invited a friend.  To your demise they motion to the cheap beer wielding behemoth that interrupted your story.  Ever the polite one, you brush it off, possibly using some form of the cliche “the more the merrier!”

It’s all down hill from there.  The party is never cozy again.  That mutually-appreciated music everyone was enjoying before has been changed to The Black Eyed Peas‘ “I Gotta Feeling”.

Happily, within the hour you find solace in a friend who speaks to you privately, complaining about the uninvited guest.  The two of you rant about it over chips and fresh dip.  Everything will be OK.

The moral of the story?  That rude, loud, and uninvited guest with terrible taste in beer crashing your lovely party?  That guest is December.  December forces itself through the door, and doesn’t get the hint when it has over-stayed its welcome.  And for argument’s sake, that betraying friend who invited December, that ex-friend is November.  And that best-friend who rants with you, that person is January.


Enjoy your December!


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