Like me spending New Years away from my wife for the first time (Her: “Is this the beginning of the end? You better not cheat on me!”) Chandler’s spending Christmas away in Tulsa. Ah, Away in Tulsa. That lesser known Christmas carol…
It does seem exceedingly harsh for him to be working both Christmas Eve and New Years Eve. But then… transpondster’s gotta transpond.
It’s made worse by him being the manager and having to keep his subordinates there too. But he’s OK with it. After all, who actually likes their job?
Apparently all our other Friends.
I’m on the fence about mine. It’s hard to believe it’s already been two years… Once again, this was not quite the plan. But with the family I’m too busy to look for anything else and it’s all rather cushty. With two weeks off between Christmas and New Years. Take THAT Chandler.
But it does drag on a little. All those little annoying bits? Where things don’t work quite the way they should? They grind against my teeth with every passing day.
But that’s every job isn’t it? Isn’t it?!?
“The One With New Years In Tulsa”
Over in Tulsa, Chandler’s moaning about having to work right up till Christmas, then being stuck in a hotel room for the night.
If you ask me he should be happy he’s gonna get a night of un-interrupted sleep!
Through a mixture of teething and all the winter bugs, our eighteen month old has been a nightmare at night recently. Can’t believe it’s been almost four years of dealing with this nonsense.
I’m not sure I was even sleeping well before then to be honest. The other day I turned to my wife and observed that “one of the weird things about aging, which no-one tells you about, is one day you stop waking up feeling fully rested, and that’s just it for the rest of your life.”
We tried to work out when it changed for me. Realised it was roundabout the time we started sleeping together. And she sheepishly admitted to kicking me every time I snore.
Et tu, Brutus?
It’s nice to look back and reminisce isn’t it. Just not when you’re trying to hang out with your Friends. And here’s Chandler remembering some of their past Christmas’s together.
God I hate weeks like these. Oh, the flashbacks. And it’s even worse being reminded your Friends used to be funnier and more full of life (and in some cases, drugs).
But, there are few thing’s more Christmassy than looking back. And it’s nice to remember the time Phoebe wrote a song about all of us:
Monica, Monica,
Have a Happy Hanukkah!
Saw Santa Claus,
He said hello to Ross.
And please tell Joey,
Christmas will be snowy!!
And Rachel and Chandler,
Our friend from London would be here
but Rudolf broke an antler.
(Although this does also remind me of all the times my estranged sister suggested writing a song as a present for my children… Before me telling her that they’d probably find it a bit weird to get a video from someone they haven’t seen for a year singing a song they don’t know, and would much prefer a toy.)
With the exception of one mate’s Christmas party (which we only seem to make once every three years) we haven’t done anything proper Christmassy with friends for years now. So I always find it frustrating when my American Friends tell me about them all hanging out exchanging presents.
I guess I’m with Chandler this year.
He sends everyone home early. But one colleague (who’s a Manic Pixie Dream Girl at best, and astonishingly hot at worst) decides to stay behind.
“Oh Margy, you came and you gave me a turkey…”
It does seem exceedingly harsh for him to be working both Christmas Eve and New Years Eve. But then… transpondster’s gotta transpond.
It’s made worse by him being the manager and having to keep his subordinates there too. But he’s OK with it. After all, who actually likes their job?
Apparently all our other Friends.
I’m on the fence about mine. It’s hard to believe it’s already been two years… Once again, this was not quite the plan. But with the family I’m too busy to look for anything else and it’s all rather cushty. With two weeks off between Christmas and New Years. Take THAT Chandler.
But it does drag on a little. All those little annoying bits? Where things don’t work quite the way they should? They grind against my teeth with every passing day.
But that’s every job isn’t it? Isn’t it?!?
“The One With New Years In Tulsa”
Over in Tulsa, Chandler’s moaning about having to work right up till Christmas, then being stuck in a hotel room for the night.
If you ask me he should be happy he’s gonna get a night of un-interrupted sleep!
Through a mixture of teething and all the winter bugs, our eighteen month old has been a nightmare at night recently. Can’t believe it’s been almost four years of dealing with this nonsense.
I’m not sure I was even sleeping well before then to be honest. The other day I turned to my wife and observed that “one of the weird things about aging, which no-one tells you about, is one day you stop waking up feeling fully rested, and that’s just it for the rest of your life.”
We tried to work out when it changed for me. Realised it was roundabout the time we started sleeping together. And she sheepishly admitted to kicking me every time I snore.
Et tu, Brutus?
It’s nice to look back and reminisce isn’t it. Just not when you’re trying to hang out with your Friends. And here’s Chandler remembering some of their past Christmas’s together.
God I hate weeks like these. Oh, the flashbacks. And it’s even worse being reminded your Friends used to be funnier and more full of life (and in some cases, drugs).
But, there are few thing’s more Christmassy than looking back. And it’s nice to remember the time Phoebe wrote a song about all of us:
Monica, Monica,
Have a Happy Hanukkah!
Saw Santa Claus,
He said hello to Ross.
And please tell Joey,
Christmas will be snowy!!
And Rachel and Chandler,
Our friend from London would be here
but Rudolf broke an antler.
(Although this does also remind me of all the times my estranged sister suggested writing a song as a present for my children… Before me telling her that they’d probably find it a bit weird to get a video from someone they haven’t seen for a year singing a song they don’t know, and would much prefer a toy.)
With the exception of one mate’s Christmas party (which we only seem to make once every three years) we haven’t done anything proper Christmassy with friends for years now. So I always find it frustrating when my American Friends tell me about them all hanging out exchanging presents.
I guess I’m with Chandler this year.
He sends everyone home early. But one colleague (who’s a Manic Pixie Dream Girl at best, and astonishingly hot at worst) decides to stay behind.
“Oh Margy, you came and you gave me a turkey…”
Will this be another year someone sticks their “head” in a “Turkey”?
(Dear God, I am so sorry…)
Weirdly, she DOES immediately hit on him. But only after overhearing a phone call in which Monica is paranoid about it happening.
Come on. We’re not seriously saying this is Monica’s fault now?
Oh great. More flashbacks. This time it’s Chandler and Monica’s relationship.
AT LEAST THE CHRISTMAS STUFF WAS TOPICAL.
Though it is good to remember happy memories if you’re taking your partner for granted.
It’s strange to think, in all the time I’m known them, Chandler and Monica have now been together longer than they’ve been apart! Come on, Chandler. Don’t blow this up!
And then. He’s back! Left the office early and flew home for Christmas. Like Chris Rea, with air miles.
But he tells them all he’s quit??
Why would he do that? He's the Manager, couldn’t he just have knocked off early to fly home, then flown back again after Christmas day? Wow. He must really hate his job. Or Wendy. Wendy? Mindy? Why do they always have names like that? Honestly, if the great writer’s in the sky had any guts, they would have had him sleep with her. Perhaps it was just too cliché.
As for me? My wife needn’t have worried. I was far too busy getting drunk to hit it off with anyone on New Years. I went to see one of my old bands play. And to ensure I left the second they finished playing (to make the final train in time) I determined to stop drinking the moment they hit the stage.
The next day I checked my bank statement. It turned out I’d had three pints. During their set alone. Ooops.
The perfect final blowout.
Adieu alcohol, till we meet again.
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
My eighteen month is continuing his campaign to be objectively worse than the first in almost every way. Though at least he hasn’t tried to get his hands on any more alcohol.
His new thing is throwing things in the toilet. Which, in the hands of a competent scriptwriter would no doubt be hilarious.
But in my life gives me a strong desire to flush my own head down the toilet.
(Dear God, I am so sorry…)
Weirdly, she DOES immediately hit on him. But only after overhearing a phone call in which Monica is paranoid about it happening.
Come on. We’re not seriously saying this is Monica’s fault now?
Oh great. More flashbacks. This time it’s Chandler and Monica’s relationship.
AT LEAST THE CHRISTMAS STUFF WAS TOPICAL.
Though it is good to remember happy memories if you’re taking your partner for granted.
It’s strange to think, in all the time I’m known them, Chandler and Monica have now been together longer than they’ve been apart! Come on, Chandler. Don’t blow this up!
And then. He’s back! Left the office early and flew home for Christmas. Like Chris Rea, with air miles.
But he tells them all he’s quit??
Why would he do that? He's the Manager, couldn’t he just have knocked off early to fly home, then flown back again after Christmas day? Wow. He must really hate his job. Or Wendy. Wendy? Mindy? Why do they always have names like that? Honestly, if the great writer’s in the sky had any guts, they would have had him sleep with her. Perhaps it was just too cliché.
As for me? My wife needn’t have worried. I was far too busy getting drunk to hit it off with anyone on New Years. I went to see one of my old bands play. And to ensure I left the second they finished playing (to make the final train in time) I determined to stop drinking the moment they hit the stage.
The next day I checked my bank statement. It turned out I’d had three pints. During their set alone. Ooops.
The perfect final blowout.
Adieu alcohol, till we meet again.
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
My eighteen month is continuing his campaign to be objectively worse than the first in almost every way. Though at least he hasn’t tried to get his hands on any more alcohol.
His new thing is throwing things in the toilet. Which, in the hands of a competent scriptwriter would no doubt be hilarious.
But in my life gives me a strong desire to flush my own head down the toilet.
