Sometimes a holiday party feels more like an obligation than a celebration — especially when it’s work-related, and EXTRA-especially when you’re mostly an introvert. But with two young kids, no family, and a limited number of friends here in California, the opportunities to really go out are sort of few and far between. For that reason, I’ve been looking forward to The Company’s holiday party for weeks. Maybe months.
A sparkly dress! Actual makeup! HEELS, for crying out loud! I’ve been in flip-flops, sandals, and flat boots for like two years straight. Plus, it wasn’t “work related” for me, as my current job involves snuggling a baby and trying (but often failing) to squeeze in thirty-minute blocks of writing during his impossibly short naps.
I’m still too much of a chicken to leave my infant with a stranger — even P has never had a “babysitter” in the true sense of the word — so it was such a relief when my mom agreed to fly out for a few days. It would be our first child-free night in ages.
The rumor mill claimed that this annual gathering was supposed to be kind of epic, and for a holiday party, I guess it was. It reminded me of a super scaled-up wedding: a coat check, cocktail attire, tiny hors d’oeuvres…and, of course, freely-flowing champagne. Here I am after half a glass:
There was also a dance floor. If you know me, you know that this was almost more enticing than the champagne. (Do I need to hand over my Introvert Card yet? Yes, I love a nice, packed dance floor. I also crave time alone.) While I still miss my Michigan friends to an immense degree, I’m fortunate to have met some wonderful women whose husbands work with Al at The Company. They moved to California around the same time we did, so we are alike in that way. I know there are so many more of us out there, too! Here I am
three? several glasses in:
Toward the end it started to feel a little less like a wedding and a little more like college: people were spilling drinks left and right, the dance floor became slippery, and there were more than a couple casualties. The most college-y part was when the band played “Don’t Stop Believin’,” and our tiny little cluster of transplants got to scream, “BORN AND RAISED IN SOUTH DETROIT!” at the top of our lungs while everyone else looked on, confused.
Journey, you just get us.
A couple days after we’d recovered from the party, Al and I got to head to the design center to pick out all the interior details for the new house.
P went to preschool, and Baby B came with us. It was a super long day — we were there from 9:30 AM until almost 3:30! — but B was so patient and mellow, thank goodness. You can see some of our final choices below.
I guess now we just wait for them to break ground on the house! I’m looking forward to watching the progress (and I’ll do my best to keep you posted at each stage).
While I am obviously grateful for a fun night out and the opportunity to choose interior details, something happened yesterday that sort of dominated everything else this week: I found out that I’m a finalist in the Writer’s Digest Your Story competition! These contests attract hundreds of entrants, so to be one of the five finalists is a HUGE honor. There’s no money involved, but to me, the prize is even better: the winning story will be published in an upcoming issue.
This particular competition had only two rules: the story could not exceed 700 words, and it had to begin with this line: “The difference is, I lie for a reason.” I tried to challenge myself to write from a perspective that is completely unfamiliar to me, and I actually really enjoyed venturing that far out of my comfort zone and attempting to see through a totally different lens. I hope I did it justice.
At this point, the winner will be determined by the number of reader votes received. I know some of you have already voted, and I am so, so grateful for you. THANK YOU for helping me pursue the dream I’ve had since I was three years old! I absolutely cannot tell you how much I appreciate your support.