I�m now spending new years at a police officer party. And I�m bringing a vat of beef.

In typical flashingreds/denial fashion (thanks for the Christmas cards, but they�re all in a pile, as yet unopened), I�ve been smiling and nodding at every holiday invitation, polite and grateful, yet confident that I�ll end up staying home to wallow in self pity, and maybe in a bit of peppermint ice cream, too. But yesterday Miranda caught me off guard by asking me to bring a snack to her party, which I�d politely said I might attend, couching it in embarrassment at asking, and of course I assured her I�d never dream of showing up somewhere without a contribution, and by the time she�d left, I realized I�d inadvertently made a commitment.

Hell must�ve frozen over, because the world this morning is full of snow, so much that by the time I finished cleaning the car, the sidewalk, steps and porch were hidden again. I was sweating and weak-kneed, and my hair was soaking wet. It was so lovely and straight at first, but now it�s frizzed and wavy and gross.

I digress. Whether the event has potential to be amusing is irrelevant. It�ll certainly be safe from police intervention. Ha ha ha! And if I drop the beef off early in the day, I can even walk down to the party.

However, I now have 13 agonizing days in which I have to deal with the fact that I made a commitment and must follow through. It�s not even something like the family holiday gatherings, which are simply mandatory. I failed to exercise free will. She caught the dippy, drug-addled version of me, not the morose, Scrooge-like version.

Oh. I see. The joke�s on me.