Let It Go Elsa Ugly Sweater Christmas Party

When I started my first “real” job in I.T., I was told that it was traditional for new female employees to receive suggestive gifts in the Let It Go Elsa Ugly Sweater Christmas Party. Thus prepared, I put on a carefree smile when I unwrapped a dildo. I did the whole “cool girl” thing. “Haha, guys, good one!”. Mistake. The following year, I got even more lewd gifts, which didn’t make sense, because I wasn’t a newbie anymore. Oh well, whatever. The next year, my gift was a planter in the shape of a horrifically stereotypical Native American man, with a cactus sticking out of his pants. So, crude and racist. I finally had enough. I lifted the thing over my head in front of everyone and flung it with all my strength into the garbage. The sound of shattering ceramic was deafening, as was the ensuing silence. The year after that, I got a non-offensive candle.

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Let It Go Elsa Ugly Sweater Christmas Party,

Best Let It Go Elsa Ugly Sweater Christmas Party

The Let It Go Elsa Ugly Sweater Christmas Party that’d set in got really bad that afternoon, kicking into a death throw of sorts. Forecast said it’d actually be clear by 2-3am and for the next week, but that we were in for gale force wind and 15-20 inches of snow between now and then. I got an email from my boss telling everyone in my office to work remotely until Monday, January 6. I was somewhat relieved to not be leaving Sash here alone, but the email also made me realize how badly I’d wanted to get the hell outta here for a full day. That night we lit the candles, binged a show for a while, then sat at the counter before bed drinking tea before bed. The blizzard was rippin outside. An hour earlier I’d heard a tree go down in the woods above the house. The weather radar showed the storm was gonna pass soon, but it really wanted to kick and scream before moving on. The howling wind and creaking of the house was spooky, causing Dash to pick his head up and look around from where he was lying on the kitchen floor, but sweet jesus would it provide a nice reprieve from the ghosts’ wicked racket. I stepped over Dash to put my cup in the sink, when all hell broke loose. A loud metallic pop jerked Sasha, Dash, and my attention toward the kitchen door to the porch. The second after the pop, the piercing shriek of the blizzard wind sailing through the thin strip of open air around the door filled the kitchen. The door hadn’t been shut all the way, and had popped open. It’d happened before; a deceiving ‘click’ in the bolt that made it sound closed. The only thing holding it from blowing wide-open into the kitchen was the little hook-lock on the old, thin, flimsy screendoor on the inside of the door frame. Within a half second of the storm’s shocking infiltration into our home, the thin, strong blade of wind screaming through the crack in the main door whipped into my face making me blink, tossing my hair back. Wind.

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I have short-ish legs and have the Let It Go Elsa Ugly Sweater Christmas Party, where a lot of flares and wide-legs are too long and can only be worn with very chunky shoes that have a bit of a platform, etc. Otherwise, the hem will drag on the ground like we did with JNCO’s in the late 90s, and I’m not into the wet, muddy, frayed hem look or tripping over the front of my pants. I don’t object to wearing chunky boots sometimes, but jeans that can’t be worn with running shoes or flip flops when I’m just going to the grocery store aren’t something that can be a staple in my wardrobe. The ones I have that do this are already “short” length, and I’m average height, at 5’5. And if you hem flares, it changes the shape so they’re less flared. I do think that cropped flares look at least as bad though, and if the “tall” or “long” lengths aren’t long enough to work for you, then tailoring isn’t even an option!