Last weekend was Ken's company party.
Or rather, it was the party for his division of the company.
I'm happy that it's not a company-wide party any more. A few years back, it just got so big that it was an unpleasant crushing, like sardines, or lemmings, and neither Ken or I do well in a crowded situation, tending to have the panic reflex kick-in in full blown anxiety, which doesn't leave a lot of room for having fun and socializing.
Saturday night, then. We'd had a full day of fun, and we had been invited to a family game night with other friends that overlapped the Company Shindig, so Ken suggested that I stay home with the kids who didn't really want to go out yet again (and get myself all prettied up, or something), and he'd take Nate to the game night, as Nate had been invited particularly, seeing as he is the owner of Dominion and all itsexpansions, in our house.
Well, the two hour "we'll be back as soon as we're done playing Dominion" visit turned into a nearly-four-hour "Well, we got started with Dominion and then the hosts wanted to bring "London" to the table, and I knew it would be fast, but it wasn't" extravaganza, and Ken got home just as the Company Party was starting up in the city.
Not to worry, though. There is never a 'you will be late' vibe at New Hip Company, so he got out of his gaming duds, and into a pretty swank outfit, and we headed north to the Palace Hotel in San Francisco.
(side note: While at the party, we realized that his dinner jacket was as old as his former intern.. As old as his former intern who was throwing back martinis with the studied experience of one who had done it many times before. I guess we've gotten our money's worth out of that purchase, eh?)
It was a lovely venue. I should have taken photos, but I just took a little black purse, and my big black camera wasn't going to fit into that at all.
But not to worry.
There was a photo booth.
I didn't realize the performance anxiety that could be built up as one is waiting to enter a photo booth, when one realizes that the photos are being projected onto the vast ceiling over the dance floor as they're being snapped.
But at least there weren't 15 thousand people at the party. Eight hundred is a much more manageable number.
Eight hundred?
Egads, the mind boggles.
So, on to more current events.
Skip has finished finals, and is currently sleeping in.
Nate and Kelly got up early with me, and we had 63 beaver tails made by 7am, as Kelly was 'begged' to bring them in to her English class first period, for their 'chillax morning'. Glad to see that we're actually learning stuff in school these days.
And it's pouring rain, so I guess that we will not be going riding this weekend.
The horses miss us.
...or maybe they just miss the carrots that we've loaded our pockets with...
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