Peace on earth, goodwill toward men, and obligatory gatherings of distant relatives and former friends. Yes, the holidays are upon us.

So what do you do when you get invited to a holiday gathering that it would please you to avoid? Here are ten ideas:

Get a seasonal job that requires you to work all the time. The upside of this plan is that you get a few extra dollars to spend on Lego sets for yourself. The downside is that you’ll be working so much, you won’t have time to assemble said Lego sets. Also, there are very few places that require you to work on Christmas. Consider becoming a doctor or a gas station attendant. Have a baby. Seriously, you can blame anything on the fact that you are sleep-deprived or concerned for the newborn’s welfare and no one can question you. Of course, this one would have required a bit of planning in order to time it right. Claim that you already have a holiday gathering happening that day. As long as you keep your social circles separate, no one will find out the truth. But be sure to maintain radio silence during the event in question, lest it come to light that you never had plans in the first place. Move far away from everyone you know or like. Clean and simple. Have an embarrassing injury that lands you in the hospital during the duration of the gathering. The injury should be the type where potential visitors will understand that you’d rather have a bit of privacy than surprise guests. Change your religion frequently. If no one can remember which holidays you celebrate, they’ll avoid inviting you so as not to offend you. And if they still invite you, just claim that you don’t celebrate that one. Witness a crime. If you can make it into the Witness Protection Program, you are obligated by law to have no contact with family or friends. Commit a crime. Why stand around waiting for someone to commit a crime when you can take the matter into your own hands? Jail is just as good a reason for missing awkward parties as the Witness Protection Program. Develop very specific allergies. “Are there going to be peanuts or people who might have touched a dog, cat, or chinchilla at this party? Oh, there are? Darn! If I come, I could die. I wouldn’t want that on your conscience.” Abandon personal hygiene. No one is going to invite you to a party if you smell like Death’s pet skunk. Plus you’ll save time and money by not bathing. Easy!

And there you have it. Merry Christmas!

Unless you recently changed your religion. In which case, Happy Whatever!