Friday, December 10, 2010

A Refresher: What Happened at The Husband's Christmas Party LAST Year.

Here, on the day of The Husband's 2010 Christmas Party, I find myself reflecting upon what happened at his last Christmas Party.  I wonder if tonight will be similar.  Or different.  Or better.  Or worse.

Below is my blog post from Saturday, December 12, 2009.  Stay tuned for a Saturday, December 11, 2010 update.


DISCLAIMER:  The statements below do not reflect the opinion of others present at The Husband's Christmas party.  They also don't mean that I had no fun at all at said party.  The food was excellent, the venue was beautiful, the band is always really fun, and the staff was wonderful and attentive.  Well, except that one guy.  Anyhow, as parties go, it was a good one.  Below is more the fault of me being socially awkward.  And the funny thing is, I'm not particularly socially awkward.  But throw me into a room where everyone only talks about work that I know very little about and most have trophy wives that are either at the Peg Bundy end of the spectrum or the Jacquelyn Kennedy-Onassis one (nowhere in between), and, well....

I like to count things.


Minutes spent applying cosmetics:



Minutes spent otherwise getting ready:

40 (not bad, if you ask me.)


Minutes spent in hotel lobby looking like lost sheep because we couldn't remember which room the party was in and The Husband wouldn't ask anybody:



Awkward conversations with people I've never met and/or only see once a year that made me wish I'd feigned a migraine or appendicitis:



Times The Husband remembered to introduce me to anybody:



People from The Husband's workplace that I enjoy talking to:



People from husband's workplace that I enjoy talking to who actually showed up at party:



Alcoholic beverages (caesars) consumed:



Alcoholic beverages (caesars) consumed that were "allegedly" doubles from above total:



Minutes spent wondering if there was actually any alcohol in the bottles they were mixing drinks with or if it was all a watering-down ruse to save the company tons of cash on the open bar*:



More plausible number of alcoholic beverages (caesars) actually consumed:



Amount of tomato-clam cocktail consumed:

approx. 4 gallons


Amount of Tabasco® sauce consumed:

approx.1 gallon


Amount of Worcestershire sauce consumed:

Who knows.  I can't pronounce it, so don't care.


Meatballs consumed:



Meatballs that were actually meat:



Meatballs that were actually falafel:

1 (but delicious)


Minutes spent wishing I was way more intoxicated, otherwise having more fun, or far more inclined to take an avid interest in everybody "talking shop" around me:



Minutes spent in washroom texting more interesting people, tweeting, or just plain enjoying the notion of sitting down somewhere quiet (with a cupholder**):



Items stolen from washroom:

2  (But both were hotel lotions and just sitting there on the counter.  I'm pretty sure you're supposed to take them.)


Minutes spent lurking in foyer waiting for staff members to disappear so I could clandestinely steal a cute pinecone out of a floral arrangement:



Number of cute pinecones successfully stolen:



Number of times I made an arse of myself:

a shockingly low 1***




* Verdict: no booze included in booze.  Came home shockingly sober.

** Handy cupholder in restroom.

*** During heartfelt speech about former staff member who tragically bit it earlier in the year, my cellphone starts ringing.  The Exorcist theme.  On a positive note, I had recently changed my cellphone ringer from Chopin's Funeral March, which would have been a horrible combination of both more and less appropriate simultaneously.

Posted via email from the marvelous world of robynn holmström

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