It's my party, I'll drink if I want to!

I think Christmas parties were invented by grog shops.

It's like a marathon of social interaction that starts a week before Christmas:
"We must catch up before Christmas!"
"Come across for drinks!"
"When can you come over? Monday night? Tuesday night? Wednesday lunch? No? How about afternoon tea Thursday?"

Fortunately, I work in a profession where I am given all manner of lovely Bogan things to eat, serve and drink at Christmas parties so catering isn't usually an issue, especially in the alcohol stakes (nothing says 'thanks for a great year' like a bottle of fizzy wine, bucket-o-slushie, pre-mix RTD or Dan Murphy gift voucher).

 Not to mention the capacity to use some of the crap I receive for emergency gifting:
"Oh bugger! What will we take to Bill & Beryl's barbie? I know!!!! That box of leopard print boxed truffles, some shortbread and a shoe-shaped tree decoration! Where's that bottle of champers? Bugger it, just bring the cask of Tropicana in the fridge.... hurry up, get in the car..."

There are Christmas party rules to abide by in Bogan-ville-ea. Not that it matters if you break the rules of Boganism. It's the silly season. Nearly anything goes (except those purple fake Christmas trees, that's just WRONG).

1. We're not-that-close-to-these friends party rules:
1.1 Take your own drinks. Not too many though in case the party sucks and you have 'leave early' and experience that embarrassing moment of digging through the communal wheelbarrow of melting ice to reclaim the rest of your six pack and bottle of wine.
1.2 Don't arrive too early unless you've prepared a series of small talk conversation starters. There's only so many times you can say 'Wow, this year's flown', 'Gosh what a great job on the new driveway' and 'This is nice cheese...is it from Aldi?'
1.3 Park the car on the neighbour's nature strip so you don't get blocked into the driveway. If the party stinks, you'll need to develop either a mystery illness, sick child at home, dying grandma or 'early start tomorrow'.

2. Work party rules
2.1 Do not sit next to the boss.
2.2 Do not sit near the soaks who drink everyone else's BYO wine. You know the ones? You duck to the loo, come back and your Chardonnay's been gobbled.
2.3 Car pool with the non-drinker.

3. Spouse's work party rules
3.1 Try to avoid going at all. Safer that way.
3.2 If you must go you are required to say nice things all night, not drink too much, look pretty but not slutty, not eat too messily but make sure you eat enough, not comment about his workmates, not flirt or get hit on, not try to escape or swear or yawn or roll your eyes. AT ALL. Just don't go.

4. Drinks with the neighbours rules
4.1 Do NOT boast that your lawn is the best in the street. No one cares.
4.2 Everyone can walk home, so it's these parties that you can take an esky to. Doubles as an extra chair. Settle into the corner of the back pergola with the chips, dips and cabanossi (while its fresh, not once it's manky...you know, when it loses its sheen...) and try to avoid having to play with the ADHD kid from up the road or talk to the single mother with brain damage.
4.3 There can never be too many chippies or snags. ESPECIALLY if the cricket's on during the party. Settle in, no one's going home anytime soon.

5. Hosting it at our place rules:
5.1: It's my party and I'll drink if I want to. As much as I bloody well like. A WHOLE bucket-o-slushie if I want. It helps me make small talk until you leave to look at the festy... I mean FESTIVE lights display at the Vegas-house around the corner.
5.2: Be on time or the cheese and bikkies will be gone. The Aldi Brie is only a little tacker and once you get a taste for it...
5.3: Bring dessert. It's OK if it's a dodgy frozen boxed concoction you got from the servo on the way into the valley. Just make sure it's edible, otherwise I'm going to serve crap I brought home from work, like three-day old cheesecake or cake balls rolled in coconut.
5.4: Let me know if you're a funny eater. Case in point: We have vegequarian friends (nice people if not just SLIGHTLY stunted by the lack of red meat) and we'd had them over FOUR times for a Christmas party before one year they finally told us about 'the meat thing'. Always wondered why there were so many leftovers. One of the kids eats snags, but I spose they look a bit like (sustainably grown, cruelty-free) fish fingers. I'm not such a poor hostess that I can't chuck some garlic prawn skewers on the barbie for you. Have a good reason though. I'm not sympathetic about your Liver-Cleansing diet or the Lemon Detox whatsit.
5.5: We're eating out the back. I don't care if it's hot or cold, that's where we're going. Yes, I know the Bogan dog will whine, but you have to understand that if we eat inside, I'm going to have vacuum tomorrow with a hangover. If we eat out the back near the Barbie then the dogs'll clean up.
5.6: If I start yawning and stacking the dishwasher, it's time you left. Really. I don't want to play Family Pictionary.
5.7: Any food or drink you brought that I like, I get to keep.
5.8: I picked up dog turds off the lawn this arve so that your sprogs don't stink the car up on the way home, so keep them out of my ensuite. I want to use it later.

So, Happy Bogan Party season. As we in Bogan-ville-ea say, "Cheers, big ears!"