Fairytale of Oslo

Shoes bought for office Christmas party two years back. From Swedish brand Rizzo. Painful to walk in, but make my feet look smaller than the transvestite-size 41 that I use. I hope. I tend to get a blue toe-nail from time to time using them, though. But beauty takes suffering, or something like that.

The Midtvintersblot. A highlight of the year. For us - it just would not be Christmas without it. The ingredients of a perfect Midtvintersblot are:

• 22 adorable human beings: We invite quite a few more, but it seems the "equilibrium" of the supply/demand for this party is just over 20. Which is practical, as we can not cram more than 24 people into our dining room. Otherwise we would have to go for more than one seating. People fly in from London and Trondheim not to miss this "happening", something we really appreciate.
• A huge kettle with very strong gløgg: This is vital to get a proper party lift-off. The white gløgg was a success this year as well, and everybody got quite happy. No wonder, as Mr. I added a bottle of white rum to it while I was not paying attention. Same procedure as every year. I was happy to hear that this year EVERYBODY liked the concoction that we had put together. This meaning that we will - in fact - go for the same recipe again next year. With ALMONDS.
• Lutefisk - and the works: Dried cod treated with lye might not sound like something you would love, but it is tradition. And - a bit of an acquired taste. This was the 11th year, and it was perhaps the first time I actually liked it (I still finished my ginger-bread on the side, though). Adding a lot of beer and aquavit also helps the lutefisk go down more easily. Although, with my history with aquavit, I stick to white wine. I do manage to be sensible. Sometimes.
• Riskrem (rice cream) with raspberry sauce: This is always the last thing to finish before the guests arrive, and is always the reason I am still doing my make-up when people arrive. It is the most Christmassy dessert you can have. In addition to cloudberry cream, but I am not much of a berry-picker. So rice it is. With proper vanilla seeds. Served with a fairly nice port.

Then we sing. Loudly. While linking arms and rocking side-to-side. It is all very-very cosy-cosy.

1. Jussi Björling: O helga natt
2. The Pogues: Fairytale of New York
3. Hans Rotmo: Vårres Jul

During the whole meal, we tell stories from our daily lives from the past year. Which for some reason seem to be quite similar from year to year. About encounters with angry bears, old sami gentlemen, Finnish people - and women from up north. All building up our christmas spirit to new levels.

After dinner we walk around the Christmas tree. Most of us. By this stage, some have either left (the sensible ones) - or are sound asleep somewhere in the apartment. Proving that it IS true that you get sleepy eating fish. The Christmas tree is always a big thing, and we spend a whole evening decorating it. Which can sometimes be a bit depressing when you discover it leant up against a wall in the hall the morning after your big party. Oh, well. Bygones.

This year we skipped buying a tree, as we would not get much out of it when being away over Christmas. So - I tried to get hold of an inflatable one. No such luck, though. Instead I got this awesome (!) Christmas tree outfit. The plan was to get the person that got the "most happy" during dinner to dress up in it. Which he did. Unfortunately, he totally peaked just after that, and we did not really feel like waking him up. Poor guy. Must have been awfully warm sleeping in that. I should perhaps add that it does not just LOOK as if the tree is actually STANDING on our dining table. He really is. I almost had a heart attack right then and there.

Anyway. This is about how much I can tell you. We got the champagne out at this stage, and the rest is - as they say - history. I can, however, reveal that there was a marriage proposal at 4 AM that morning. Somewhere in Oslo. Apparently the gløgg was quite efficient this year. Congratulations to the happy couple!

Even though Christmas party season is a fun time of year, I am actually a bit relieved that it is all over now. I am not aware of any upcoming parties for at least a month or more now. I think my body will appreciate that, the poor little thing.

You´re a bum you´re a punk 
You´re an old slut on junk 
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed 
You scumbag you maggot 
You cheap lousy faggot 
Happy christmas your arse I pray god it´s our last. *

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fairytale_of_New_York