As any person with as many iconoclastic tendencies as yours truly will tell you, this time of the year posses terrible contradictions between our desire to free ourselves from symbols and cultural obligations and, well, just having time off from work and school. Usually, I cope by calling everything by its 'proper sociology of religion name' and wishing everyone a happy hegemonic deity birthday/randomly set beginning of the year not really marked by the solstice (like the Iranians, who celebrate new years on March 21, when the sun wins the fight for time against the dark and the cold) and by working.
I will admit to going to new year's parties with my cousin Hugo and the lovely Marielos... and to randomly convincing complete strangers at the Café No Sé to chant wonderful pro-welfare state propaganda (yes, healthcare and eduation SHOULD BE FREE), as we all found out two years ago via a random MPHer from Johns Hopkins and a bar bet which I lost).
This year I ended up at a party at Andy's (Mg's friend) and while I expected a quiet, fun night of puns, Monty Python references and a great dinner, I got me a dance party complete with 1990s flashbacks which made me feel like I was 15 again and getting ready for my fiesta de quince. So to the tune of 'rhythm is a dancer' I welcomed 2011 and then proceeded to walk the 5km back to Mg's house at 4 am (got home at 5.30). No more dancing today, though
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