I hope it's not chicken. Or ham. Is there going to be alcohol?

So last night we had to attend one of those fabulously boring dinners that go along with hubby's job. I was dreading it all week. Then I was dreading it all day. Dreading it when I talked to my friend on the phone, who's advice was to stop at a gas station and buy those tiny bottles of vodka to spike my drink with. Dreading it as I showered. Dreading it as I gave myself a mani & pedi. Dreading it as I picked out my hubby's and my evening attire (no, he can't do it himself. Bad idea, trust me on this one.) Dreading it as I curled my hair and applied makeup. And the whole time I'm giving myself the "ways I need to behave in public" speech in my head. You know, like don't call anyone asshat to their face. Smile and be gracious even if you hate the person. (this one is easier if you pretend you're a secret agent. Or a ninja and you don't want to blow your cover). No matter how stupid what they're saying is, smile and nod. Don't give them "the face". (Hubby & Lu say I make this face that says "you're a complete moron and I don't know why they let you live". I have no idea what face this is as I don't consciously make it.) Finally we head out the door.

As we drive the hour and fifteen minutes it takes to get to the place where the dinner is held, I pepper Hubby with relevant questions~

Me: Is there going to be alcohol there?

Him: Well, I think they finished building the bar in the hotel, so there will be alcohol somewhere.

Me: Yes, but can I go get a drink and bring it in?

Him: I guess so honey. I don't think it's against any rules. You are over 21.

Me: I know that. I just don't think it will help you professionally if everyone decides I'm a lush.

Him: No one thinks you're a lush. Everyone thinks your fun. And outgoing. And a little wild.

Me: A little wild? See, that means lush. Or stripper. I don't know, but I don't think it's flattering.

Then we get a text message from C. He's already there as he had to go early and set up some OA merchandise to sell. He took up four of the youth members with him.

C: You guys want to sit with the cool kids or do you have to sit somewhere else?

Me: We are the cool kids so wherever we sit is the cool table. But I don't think we have assigned seats.

C: Okay. How many chairs?

Me: Two.

Then I get a text from D, one of the youth members and a friend of our kids~

D: Pretend you're going to sit by M, and then say something smells and move.

Me: Why? That's really mean.

D: Because it will be funny!

Me: I'll think about it. (of course I won't do it. How rude!)

So finally we get there and I carefully traverse the parking lot clinging to Hubby's arm. Heels + ice = broken hiney. But I had to wear the heels because they're cute. And because the tattoo on my foot shows and it was my one concession to the real me, not the business dinner me. We get inside and start doing the meet & greet thing. Boring. Hubby points out the bar, but I don't want to be the first to carry in a drink so I decide to wait for K, my partner in crime at these things.

I go over to say "hi" to the youth members at their table of merchandise. I tell M that I was supposed to tell him he smells. He laughs and gives me a hug to prove he doesn't smell. I get the story of why Mutt is grounded. And I agree that I probably wouldn't have grounded my kids for the offense. He says it's because I'm cool. I don't disagree. Then D says that Mutt's mom is hott. Mutt blushes. D says that I, of course, am a 10, but Mutt's mom is definitely a 9. I roll my eyes. Then P says that he's been winking and shooting me kissy faces and I'm not responding. I tell him it's because nothing flirtatious registers for me unless it's coming from someone over 21. I try not to let him see how badly he's creeping me out. Seriously dude. Stop. I go find my hubby.

K is here!! We immediately head to the bar. We find some of the younger guys in there getting drinks but then they stand around a table. We order ours (god bless vodka) and before we can leave K's husband comes in. He's a couple of steps up the ladder from my husband, professionally. And he's a good guy, but more professionally concerned than my hubby. And without actually coming right out and saying it, he lets us know he'd prefer we stay here with our drinks. Okay, but you made me chug it. Not my fault. So I knock it back and then go back to the banquet room. I strike up a convo with one of the new girls they've just hired. She's twenty two, just graduated from college and landed this job. She's a little overwhelmed. And lonely because she had to move up there to work out of that office and she doesn't know anyone. She's actually from around here, in fact her sister went to school with my kids. And oddly enough, she dated Lu's DEBF during one of his and Lu's break-ups. Which I find hilarious. I already knew this because we actually met in the line for the midnight showing of the last Harry Potter movie. Small town, you know.

So then we sit down for dinner. And I am pleasantly surprised! It's not dry tasteless chicken. Or icky ham. It's pork loin in mushroom gravy, bacon cheddar mashed potatoes and seasoned corn. It's tasty for a change! Woo hoo. As we're eating, we're chatting. We are sitting at the table with C, who is the new OA advisor, having been a past chief himself, the four youth members who range from 20 to 17. And my husbands new supervisor S. Who I'm really beginning to like, as opposed to the Executive, who I avoid like the plague because I think he's an asshat. Dinner conversation is funny. They talk about Mutt's grounding and someone else who is always grounded. I say I grounded Lu once. It lasted five days. Grounding to me always seemed like I was punishing myself. I mean, sure your kid can't go anywhere or do anything, but neither can you. Because you're stuck being the warden to a cranky pissed off teenager.

Then I tell P to stop posting all his silly farmville stuff because it fills up my entire home feed on fb sometimes. I don't think you're super awesome because you got a virtual ribbon. Then we have to explain farmville to S, who offers to pay camp staff in "virtual dollars" since they like them so much.

Finally, the program part begins. This is the uber boring part, where I want to gouge out my eyes. Or be slightly tipsy. Or take a really long bathroom break. Like at the bar. They have bathrooms in there, right? They do a bunch of business stuff. Introduce people, yada yada yada. I sit there quietly, with a vacant smile on my face, writing this blog post in my head. P leans over and points to a guy in a suit a couple tables from us and whispers "do you think that's a toupee?". I try not to giggle and whisper back "yes, a really really bad one." Then it's time for them to introduce the guest speaker. He's an eagle scout from one of our camps, who served as chief of the OA lodge in the seventies and then went on to be the personal aide to president Bill Clinton. Holy crap, it's toupee guy. P & I share a raised eyebrow look. He's actually a really good speaker. Toots his own horn a bit, but hey small town boy made good so it's excusable. What I didn't find excusable was the slide show of pictures of him with various famous people. Like the Clintons, Bono, and the King of Spain. Dude, I get it. You hung out with famous peeps. Do we really need to see you cheesin while you shake their hands? Also, a lot of name dropping. Although I did enjoy the story about Ronald Reagan. He was an entertaining speaker, obviously he had lots of practice. But then it happens. I knew it would. I was waiting.

Invariably, when people speak at Boy Scout functions, they talk about how much they love helping the youth grow and change and become better individuals. And invariably, it comes out wrong. Like once the guest speaker was introducing someone else and he said "nobody loves little boys like him". Seriously, I almost had a heart attack trying not to laugh out loud. And the weird part? Almost no one else bats an eyelash. It's like me in a room full of stiffs. So I'm listening to his speech and he says "There's nothing so great as being able to touch young boys". My hand flew up to my mouth. I nearly spit water out my nose trying to stifle my giggle. I looked at C, who had his head down and his hand on his mouth. He looked at me from the corner of his eye and nearly lost it. I look around. No one else looks fazed. So I compose myself and fire off a text "Dude. He just said 'touch young boys'". I get back a couple of responses. But I wait to read them until after, for fear of giggling. Now, I do know that he meant touch their lives. Make a difference. But still, it just sounds wrong. After it's done, we get up to mingle again and E comes over to me~

E: so I saw you trying not to giggle. What was that about?

Me: You know what it was about! The thing that kills me is that no one else seems to notice.

E: they notice, they just don't think it's funny.

Me: I'm not sure they notice. Maybe everyone is zoned out. Or *shrug* maybe I'm just super immature. *and I walk away*

We congratulate the Silver Beaver award winners. This is the highest honor a volunteer can receive. It's for a lifetime of service to scouts. The honorees get a silver beaver medal which you wear around your neck. A framed certificate and a pin. The spouses get a rose. Seriously?? I mean these people (mostly men, but a few women) get to do all this volunteer work because their significant other picks up the slack elsewhere. Runs the household, ect. And all they get is a rose??

Me: I don't think it's fair that the wives only get a rose.

Hubby: Why?

Me: Um. Because the reason those guys have all that time to volunteer is because their wives supported their activities. They took up the household slack. They ran the show when he was off camping or whatever. I think they deserve more recognition than a rose. If you ever get the silver beaver...

Hubby: I can't get it. I'm a paid scouter. It's a volunteer award.

Me: Well, like when you retire. If you still do volunteer work and you get it, I want something more than a rose. I want a freakin diamond ring. I mean, I'm the woman behind the man. I make you awesome.

Hubby: *chuckles* yeah. Good luck with that.

But you notice he doesn't deny the whole "I make him awesome" comment. Because it's totally true. We mingled some more. I talked to wives I don't know. I talked to important people whose names I don't recall. I'm pretty much an expert mingler. I remind hubby how lucky he is to have me. Really, I'm such an asset. Finally we got to roll out of there. Whew. I think I'm good for a couple of months again.

♥Spot

PS- I'm going to Myrtle Beach for a week. Leaving Monday night. I will probably post tomorrow but I apologize in advance for next week. Don't know how much I'll post. =]

So we interupt this program...

I'm interrupting the scheduled installment of "The Disco Chronicles" because today sucks so bad so far, with no promise of any redemption. I was awakened early this morning by my very noisy hubby and cats in my face. Why is it that when I'm sleeping they think it's an appropriate time to rub their furry little purring bodies in my face? (the cats, not the hubby)But I laid there for another half hour anyway. Then when I got up, I discovered that Bobby had missed his driving class (required by the courts because of his last speeding ticket) for the second time. Hubby had been called away by the deer hunters to help them with some deer so most probably he and Sean would be late for the meeting they had in town. I was supposed to have a peacefully, empty, quiet house today to work on some xmas projects. Foiled. Then I remembered that I had forgotten to take the meat and cheese out of the freezer to defrost for making the sausage cheese balls to take to tonight's Christmas Party from Hell. Oh joyful day. And then the absolute kicker...I retire to the family room with my tea, fire up my computer, and the little grey letters on the black screen inform me that the fan has failed and using the computer without fixing it would be detrimental. WTF??! How did this happen?? It was fine when I shut it off last night. I nearly teared up. My NOVEL is on the computer. (No, I wasn't bright enough to back it up.) I run to the living room to tell Sean who informs me he'll look at it when he gets back, but he has to leave in nine minutes. But, but, but...

Well, who knew that getting mad and kicking said computer would cause the fan to start working again?? I'd like to say I did...but really I was just pissed. Anywho...it's working for now so I figured I'd take advantage. So let me just explain about the Christmas Party from Hell...

My husbands old boss retired this year. He was not the greatest boss ever, he had his faults, but he was pretty good. And he and his wife were really good people. Christmas parties were loads of fun. If it had been a good year for the council we were taken to dinner at a really nice restaurant and then to a community theatre production. We have to alternate towns where the party is held because one of the council offices is in Quincy and one is in Burlington. There's roughly a two hour drive between them. So some years the party is near Quincy, some years Keokuk (the half way point), and some years Burlington. If there's driving to be done, lots of times there was a passenger van rented so we could carpool. If it was a lean year for the council (remember not-for-profit organization), the boss and his wife would have the party at their home. They would have a catered meal, nothing fancy, usually from one of the grocery store delis, and we would all bring wine and dessert. While I didn't necessarily look forward to the xmas party every year, they were tolerable, and some were actually fun.

The new boss rubs me the wrong way. Quite frankly, I think he's an asshat. I have since the first time I was introduced when he came here for his interview. The spidey senses went off right away and I've learned to trust them about people. They interviewed several candidates for the job and he was the one they hired. My hubby even got to voice his opinion and let me just say, he ignored the spidey senses. I was re-introduced to the boss a couple of months later after he took the job. Same spidey senses. I have studiously avoided him ever since. He's made a lot of changes, some ultimately for the good, some horribly bad. He micromanages. He likes people who kiss his ass. My husband says he can't really tell but he thinks they are on good footing even though he's not an ass kisser. He's just very good at his job. And very good at defusing potentially bad situations. Sean met the boss for maybe the third time the other day. Sean's first words to me after this "he gives off a really bad vibe". Apparently Sean is developing spidey senses too.

Tonight is the annual Christmas Party. It is going to blow chunks. Let me explain by way of the conversation my hubby and I had roughly 3 weeks ago~

Hubby~ we need to RSVP for the xmas party.

Me~ Ok. Where's it at?

Hubby~ the winter cabin. (this is one of the cabins on the property. It's basically just a big room, with a tiny kitchenette, and tiny dining area. No furniture save a dining table and benches. no bathroom.)

Me~ WTF? (also, since it's on the camp property, there's no alcohol allowed.)

hubby~ apparently there's no money in the budget so they're holding it here. And it's a carry-in.

Me~ No free meal at least?? A carry-in?? *fake cough*, *fake cough*. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sick that day.

hubby~ it's three weeks away.

Me~ I know. I'll probably be deathly ill by then.

hubby~ it's practically being held in your front yard.

Me~ yes, but I might be contagious. I'm only thinking of everyone else.

Needless to say, this ploy didn't work and I resigned myself to my fate. Trapped in a cabin, with people I'm not particularly fond of, with no alcohol to offset my extreme boredom. But then the other day~

Hubby~ so they moved the Christmas party venue.

Me~ Really??? Mentally tallying up how many bottles of wine I have in the pantry that I can contribute to the now possibly a bit better party.

Hubby~ yeah. Some of the women have health issues and they were worried about the lack of a bathroom close by. So now it's being held in the church basement in (small town near us).

Me~ *huge sigh* again with the no alcohol. W.T.F??! And um. Oh. Wait. Me & churches. If you don't know what I mean...read here.

And to add insult to injury, they've now said it's okay to bring your children along. Now, I'm a huge fan of kids, but really?? Could the prospect of this evening get worse?? So then, there's this discussion.

hubby~ H & K (a guy he works with and his wife who we occasionally go out with) are heading to the winery at 3 Saturday before they go to the Christmas party.

Me~ yippee! That will be better.

hubby~ I told them we won't be joining them. I don't really think you and alcohol are a good mix for this party.

Me~ *staring at him blankly for a moment, like a kid who's just had candy ripped from their hands* oh. my. You are really worried I'm going to tell people exactly what I think at this party aren't you?

hubby~ well, you have been rather outspoken lately. And I know how you feel about the boss. Yeah, I'm a little worried you might tell him what you think of him. I'd like to keep my job.

Me~ I don't even see why it would matter what I think of him. I don't work for him. I didn't sign any contracts. Why does he care what the hell I think??

Hubby~ you know you could stay home if you want. I could say you were sick.

I know you're all thinking I should be insulted at this point. Like he doesn't think I can restrain myself. Like I didn't work retail for forever and learned to present a cheerful face no matter what. Like I didn't earn accolades and plaques in high school for drama? Like I haven't done community theatre and still went on with the show after learning my cousin and his wife died. Is he for real?? But in his defense...I will give you a glimpse of some scenes from past Christmas parties...

The very first year he had this job, 8 Christmases ago, the Christmas party was being held at a winery in a small town near us that did dinner theatre. I had to work at the bookstore all day. It was so busy, I didn't get a chance to eat any lunch. He picked me up, we met H & K and J( a 22 year old guy who worked for the council that year. He had also been the program director for camp so we'd spent the summer with him). We carpooled in H & K's van the half hour drive. The winery is right next to a plant or something I dunno. All I know is there is a five foot tall chicken statue outside this place that you can see from the highway. When we exited the van, J remarked that we should steal the chicken. We laughed.

Inside, we went to our table, and then split up. H & my hubby don't drink wine. But K & I went right to the wine tasting area. The deal is you get to taste all the wines and then you get a free glass of your choice with your meal. Well I flirted hard with the guy pouring the wine and K & I ended up getting full glasses instead of the measly bit they usually give you to taste. So picture us weaving unsteadily back to the table after having 7 glasses of wine on my empty stomach. Yeah, I was feeling good. Then we get our free glass and since H & hubby don't drink wine...we got theirs as well. The office manager & her husband were sitting across from us and her husband was feeling good too. As was J. We may have been a little loud. And we may have been a little inappropriate. I'd like to say I remembered. But I don't. Not by this time. H went and bought us another bottle of wine. Oh lord. When we finally left, I was leaning heavily on hubby's arm on the way to the parking lot and talking pretty much non stop. Well then I see the chicken. And suddenly, stealing it seems like an awesome idea. Possibly the best idea ever. So I drop hubby's arm and go running off across the lot (in heels, skirt, and long wool dress coat) and begin pulling on said chicken. Luckily, J (who is 6'4") comes and throws me over his shoulder and carts me back to the van. Yeah, probably not the best first impression on alot of people. In fact...good impression epic fail.

The next year hubby asked me specifically not to drink at the party. Okay. Damage completely undone. In the following years a few incidents have occurred. Most of them not noticed by many people. Like the year H & I fell asleep during the play. In my defense...we'd had wine with supper, it was really really warm in the theatre and I'd seen that play done the year before. At least we didn't snore. Although I think I ended up with my head on his shoulder. There was the year we went to the Italian restaurant and two of the men he works with kept insisting that I had to be Italian because of my dark coloring. I don't see how it's my fault, but the one guys wife got royally pissed at him and asked him loudly to stop flirting with me. But basically it averages out. Three parties where there were...um...issues? Three parties i behaved well at. And one I missed. I don't know why he's soooo worried. I'm the one who's going to spend the evening bored and having to bite my tongue. Is it over yet???

promising to behave,
♥Spot