It’s hard to believe how quickly Christmas is approaching. It doesn’t quite feel like Christmas yet, but I suppose that’s because I haven’t had a moment to even think about it. I still have some shopping to do – yes, I do always leave it until the last possible moment.
Staff Christmas Party
If you know me you know that I am not a party girl. My idea of a fun night is watching movies with friends or curling up with a good book. Yet I allowed myself to be talked into attending this year. It started out amazing. A friend of a friend who works for MAC cosmetics did our makeup (I am still in shock over how amazing my eyes looked) and we had fun at the resturant where we all met for dinner. Afterwards we all went to a club. Clubs and I do not get along. I have nothing against people who go to clubs, they just aren’t for me. I think I view them differently. They always strike me as something that could belong on the Animal Network. Girls dressed to impress dancing with one another on the floor while guys circle them and try to get their attention. The whole thing seems absurd to me.
While some of my friends drank and danced, I hung out with some of my co-workers and chatted with them. One of my good friends, Eddie came over and we were having a great conversation about everything from George Bush to God when we heard a commotion behind us. We looked to see what was going on and Eddie ended up getting beer in his eye while I got some all over my arm. At the time we didn’t think much of it and just chalked it up drunken stupidity. We continued our conversation when all of a sudden I heard some girl screaming, “That’s her! That’s the B!$% that f’ing kicked my friend.” Stunned, I looked over my shoulder to see who she was talking about – afterall I had interacted with no one other than those I work with. Considering I was standing against a wall, and the only girl in that area there was no doubt that she was talking about me. Before I had even figured out what was going on ALL the guys I work with had circled me and were forcing her away from me. This girls equally drunk friend lunged over the guys and punched me in the forehead.
It took a good forty-five minutes for me to stop shaking. The two girls kept walking past me and my friends, glaring and muttering things. At one point Eddie looked at me and asked if I was OK, and I almost started crying. Not so much because of the drunken girls, but just because I was completely exhausted – mentally and physically. The day before I had been at the funeral for my great-uncle.
For the most part I laughed it all off – I laugh a lot. I just looked at Eddie and said, “See! I told you the freaks always find me.”
