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It's official. The sled and Santa and ho-ho-ho commercials have begun. The tinsel and lights are strung on my neighbors' homes. Early Bird People are shopping at 4 AM for...what-evvvvah. (I swear I didn't always talk with a Long Island accent.)

And I'm out. November 23rd and I'm ready to go into hermit mode. See you, Mega-Mall, in January. Wake me up when it's over.

I know what you're thinking. Who me, the Grinch? No. (Green does nothing for me, unless it's something I can peel out of my wallet.) ;> I love the holidays. Just not the feeling of being left out. Chanukah doesn't exactly get the masses' adrenaline rush going. A menorah, a dreidel, a chocolate coin? Why compete? (Just Say No to Chanukah Gelt, er Guilt!)

If it's The Day after Thanksgiving, it might as well be Christmas. Not my holiday but who am I to turn down any excuse to celebrate the sweeter side of life?

It's so Ellen Degeneres of me, but there's only true way to kick off the holiday season: Dance with me, partner! (Need a refresher course? Here's what you need to know:)



If that's too technical for you, sit down and take lessons from the Goddess of the Dance Floor, Master Elaine Benes. You go girl!



So...go on. You know you want to. Dance like no one is watching. Even if we really are. {}

This is the only time of year I miss having a real job. I miss those spectacular office parties.

We're short on illicit affairs, shot glasses, and DJs here at Maison de WriterRoss.

Then again, a Party of One has its perks. (Er...er...No lines for the ladies' room?)

-Pamela (once sent home in a cab for safekeeping by my Very Important Boss after a Putnam/Berkley holiday party; it's not my fault I thought I was a better dancer than the body double for Jennifer Beals in FLASHDANCE)

She's a maniac, maniac on the floor...


(and no where else, thank you very much) :}

Mama, don't let your babies grow up to be writers. It's so... impractical...


... but I wouldn't have it any other way.