Last year, our unit Christmas party was held at The Granfalloon. The after party activities aside, the party was a complete bust. Bosshole was most displeased that so much money was spent, and only a handful of people showed up. So, it was unofficially decided that future Christmas gatherings would be best served hosted at a personal residence.
Bosshole initially wanted to have it at his house, until he thought about having so many people in his house all at once. I had mentioned I would be willing to host it this year, and he pounced on that opportunity.
We had it Wednesday, and I spent the days preceding doing prep-work. On Monday, I cleaned the house, put up the loaner tree, and decorated it.Mom came over Tuesday and we made delicious Christmas confections ranging from popcorn balls, peanut butter balls, truffles, and chocolate dipped pretzels. Wednesday morning, I made a hundred jello shots in various flavors. I made a batch of no-bake cookies that never set-up right (they never do for me). I had Brother bring up folding chairs from the basement. I cleaned his toilet (shudder), and ran a couple other errands. I've been so busy, there was no time for blogging about it.
Party time arrived and the early people showed, including Bosshole. He had to come early so he could go get the food. Because he's from JoCo and most JoCo people are terrified of venturing into Missouri, especially Jackson County, I went with him so he wouldn't take a wrong turn and get lost, only to get sodomized or what JoCo people fear about coming east of the state line.
This year, we had our dinner catered by Salty Iguana. Twenty-six people signed up for the party, he ordered for forty people. Needless to say, we had a shit-ton of food. So much, I had to put the leaf in the dining room table.
When we got back to my house, more people had arrived and things were starting to get warmed up. It was BYOB, so everyone brought beer. For the night, we just set everything out on the deck because it was cool enough. I think there were about 10 different kinds of beer. One nurse brought three bottles of wine, and another brought a big bottle of bubbly.
Mexican food, libations, jello shots, peanut butter balls. Everyone was merry. Bosshole even got sauced and produced a personality. At one point, he perused the contents of my refrigerator, made fun of me for keeping my pancake mix in there (keeps it fresh, bitches!!), and announced to everyone that he was really good at making bunny-shaped pancakes, and he would be willing to make us pancakes later.
Meanwhile, Sam is the big hit of the party. He had gotten a bath that morning, so he was nice, white and fluffy. The groomer even sprayed him with marshmallow scented spray, so he was somewhat pleasant smelling. Everyone wanted to cuddle with Sam, Bosshole even wanted to take him home. They all said he was such a good dog.
If they only knew... (That's Toph with Sam, by the way. He's single, ladies!)
The White Elephant gift exchange rolls around and I manage to pull a bag with a pair of handcuffs (no key), and orange jumper from the Wyandotte County Jail. Don't ask me how they came to be in our possession.Sadly, I didn't get to keep the gift as another nurse took it. Her boyfriend had mentioned he would wear it next year for Halloween, which was funny because I was planning on making Mom wear it next year for Halloween.
I'm not sad about losing the cuffs, I already have a pair of my own. Mine are much nicer.
After the gift exchange, the crowd (roughly 30 or so) finish off the jello shots, the champagne, the wine, and most the beer. Someone decides it would be fun to go to The Levee. I manage to catch a ride with someone and a small group of us go there to see if we can kill off the rest of our livers. We close the place down and I am taken back to my house. Before I make it to my front door, I toss my cookies right there in the driveway. Mexican food, jello shots, and God knows what else, all over my little rock garden by the stairs.
The following day, my stomach makes certain it is completely empty, all day long. This includes water and bile. It sucks to be that sick. I'm never, ever doing that again. Detox must suck for alcoholics, and a hangover is just a taste of what they go through. Just thinking about it is making me queasy right now. However, I did try to drunk text some people, but didn't do it right. I'm going to have to have The D give me some pointers on that.
For the most part, the house has been put back together. I have three big bags of garbage, and a blue bin full of empty glass bottles in varying shapes and sizes. Now, I just need to get ready for Christmas. I have most the gifts bought, the rest are just going to be gift cards and money.
And maybe leftover beer.