Best work party ever. (so far. (this year.))

Day 7 of the 25 days posting extravaganza-

Ah, Christmas Party Season.  It makes me feel a little bit stabby.  All the ironing, and paying babysitters, and fake smiling, and pretending you care about that really great convention in [insert lame ass city here].  bleh.  But, what are you going to do....I'm pretty sure a spouse's company holiday party falls into the "death and taxes" category.  So, Onward!

The first of many holiday soirees, for the 2009 season, was this past weekend.  What is interesting to me is that this year's parties have very nicely arranged themselves in order of reverse importance.  For example, party one was a "take it or leave it" deal from the start (if I'm being honest, I was way heavy in the "leave it" camp). I tried hard to swing things in my favor by conveniently "forgetting" to mention it to any potential sitter until the day before, but, as fate would have it, we magically ended up with not one great sitter but THREE who were willing to (nay, INSISTING ON) the drive over the river and through the snow to hang out with our babies.

So I ironed, left cash for the sitters, greased up the chompers in preparation for a nice long evening of cheek numbing grin-age, and made it almost all the way through some guy's FASCINATING story about the Spleen Doctors* convention in San Something or another** over Columbus Day Weekend*** before politely excusing myself to the bar for "ANOTHER GLASS BOTTLE OF WINE, GOOD BARTENDER, STAT!"

Please note that ~ that little squiggle right there is precisely the point in this story that my tune changes.  Because, hindsight being all that it is, I can look back and say, really, it was not.so.bad.

Here's where I'd enter all the delightful details, but I'll spare you the foreplay and get right down to it... We looked good, the food was FAB, and, you guys, WE.WON.PRIZES!

(For the record, we are not EVER the people that win stuff.  I can't say that either the hubbs or myself have ever been caller 10 on the radio, gotten the opportunity to shout "BINGO!", or picked the right pony at the track, AND I've been getting that Publishers Clearing House "You've may have already won Eleventy-Frillion Dollars" notice for decades and still? NOTHING!  But back to me putting my stilettoed heel in my mouth....)

Right, PRIZES!  I haven't even told you what they are yet, and I'm not one to look a gift horse [see also: PRIZES!] in the mouth, but this may have been one of those every-fly-chasing-daisy-picking-uncoordinated-8-year-old-who-can-put-his-jersy-on-right(and of course even those who cant!) gets-a-trophy-for-showing-up kind of situations, but wanna know what has two thumbs and doesn't mind in the least:  this girl.

In the Greatest Raffle That Ever Was, not only did I walk away with a 20lb gift basket of chocolate covered things (mmmm...chocolate-y things...) but, Patton won what may possibly be the greatest gift one could ever receive from an impartial third party (except of course for that Eleventy-Frillion Dollars): a SUBSTANTIAL gift card for a MAID SERVICE!
I know. RIGHT!! Genius Gift Giving.

So anyway, wanna know what I'm doing as soon as the masses retreat after the holidays (that's right, I said AFTER-this gift is all mine, bitches!)?  Sitting my lazy ass down with a 20lb basket of bon bons and letting somebody else take a toothbrush to the toilet bowl!
SNAP! It just got all "Real Housewives of Annandale" up in here!

oh.my.gawd.holiday.parties.rock!


___________________________
*The very boring variety of doctor has been changed to an equally boring variety of doctor to protect the anonymity of the story teller
**to my knowledge there is no such place-if I am mistaken I greatly apologize to the good citizens of San Something
***It wasn't over Columbus Day, but now that we've gotten this far, I'm not really sure it matters... so, yeah.