Tuesday, December 27, 2011

All tomorrow's parties

My uninspired last minute creation
Tasha's tiny hat became proportional on a wee one (photos via Michelle)

Even before the holidays properly arrived, the two of us were killing ourselves to make it to roughly ten million (unscientific estimate) seasonal events. Now, I can't really complain about a full social calendar with a straight face. But how trying are those thirty minutes until showtime when you're racing to the store to pick out a boozey host gift, ransacking your own dresser like some pervy burglar to find the one pair of tights that don't sausage-link your midsection (you know, the good tights), and telling your partner to go ahead and change everything about what he's wearing (cliché alert). And then how validating to open a door from the cold into a twinkly incandescent world of clove-spiced punch and cakey cookies?

The first party was ours, casual trivia night at our place. Nick made awesome vegetarian roast beef and onion marmalade hoagies and wrote all the questions. I feel like I did a lot for the party, too? But all I can really remember doing right now is fashioning my hair into a sufficiently giant bun on the tippy-top of my weird head and fretting about whether enough guests would potluck to feed the 5,000 (20). Oops, sorry Nick.

The next night was Tasha's annual fancy hat Christmas party, where the lady guests flex their architectural muscle to create impressive feats of seasonal headwear. My hat is always thrown together in the hour before the party starts (born procrastinator) but there were some stunners this year.

We left that party to go to a bar where our friend Christen's band was playing a holiday show along with some other local acts. The next morning I woke up with snow in my hair (instant mashed potato flakes).

I tagged along to a Mad Men/generally retro-themed holiday party the next night. The midcentury theme was carried out right through to the gin-based cocktails and Spam casserole and chopped pineapple hors d'oeuvres. Helping myself to the pot of guacamole in the center of the bowl of chips, I said in my best smarmy Pete Campbell, "It's a chip'n'dip". But no one was standing next to me, so I promptly put all of the food from my hand into my mouth and went to find where my friends had sat down. Ace move, self. The best thing about that party was probably the abundance of smiling babies and fur stoles, seeing my girl Ashley before her Big Transatlantic Move, and the impromptu dance party that broke out.

Nick surprised me with Nutcracker tickets as an early Christmas gift. (In the last few months, I have become really intrigued by ballet? How strange it is to be indefinitely you, but still retain the ability to surprise the hell out of yourself.) We had a blast, staying out late afterwards to enjoy truffle fries and IPAs even though our house looked like a battlefield and we had wrapped not one gift.

Then my yoga class had our holiday party (I've never known a fitness class to be so in love with each other, it's awesome) at the funeral home, of course. We wore prom dresses (or, rather, I put on my prom dresses and was able zip it ohhh halfway up) Maybe at some point we all took turns trying on a funeral wig? Sorry, recently dead of Columbus metro.

After all that, we spent four days straight with our wonderful, difficult families. Suffice to say, I am feeling very zen about sitting at my desk at work again with the sunlight streaming in though big windows, catching up on the many e-mails that collected in my absence.

2 comments:

  1. Yay parties!

    That's a very rad hat. I think I just fell in love with hat parties.

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  2. i couldn't get past "vegetarian roast beef". drooling at the mere thought...

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