And the band plays on

Ahh, Christmastime... the endless parties, food and drink. I went to several recently that I'll blog about now.

On Thursday, I attended what turned out to be an important event for me: a meeting/holiday party for the Orlando International Council of Realtors.

I should explain that one of the reasons my blogging has been so light lately is that I've been working very hard to break into the British real estate market. (Meaning, Brits who buy vacation homes here in Florida.) I have a brand-new business plan and I'm pretty excited about where it could take my career.

So going to the OICR meeting/party was crucial, and they just happened to have the first-ever delegation of British Realtors visiting Florida from the U.K.. I shmoozed my way through the entire group, handing out business cards at a record pace. The British Realtors seemed really nice and professional, but ...OMG. We are definitely a "people divided by a common language." They use many of the same real estate terms as us, but with different meanings!! We're finally ironing it all out via emails, thank goodness. (Especially since they intimated some very frightening figures to me-- as it turns out, we have two ways of saying exactly the same thing, but their way of saying it makes it sound, ahem, twice as expensive. So I can stop hyperventilating.)

Anyway, it was a good event for my career, and the next party was my company's annual Christmas extravaganza on Saturday night. It was a "wow" event, and the company has grown so much that the restaurant hosting us had to rent the lobby of the Bank of America next door just to hold us all.

I decided it was definitely a night to glam it up, so I showed up in a shortish black velvet dress, rhinestone chandelier earrings, necklace, bracelet and purse, and a big, glitzy ring. Hey, the company Christmas party only rolls around once a year. When else will I use all my glittery stuff?

Upon arriving at the party, I made my way to the open bar. (No, this is NOT my normal behavior.) In the past, my company has provided cocktails from 7-8 p.m., and we're on our own for drinks for the remainder of the night. This year, they changed the plan, but nobody bothered to tell me. So I rushed in at 7:55, grabbed a seat, sprinted to the bar, and got 2 vodka drinks with the drink tickets provided to me. (In retrospect, the tickets should have been a tip-off that they had a different system this year. But I was so frazzled by coming alone for the first time, having trouble finding the venue, then parking, and arriving late, that there was not a lot of clear thinking going on in my brain. All I was thinking was: "This is an intimidating event. Everyone else probably has a date. Give me my full allocation of cocktails so I can endure the evening!")

So there I sat, with my two vodka-and-cranberries before me. My broker came over to greet me and said "Have enough to drink!?" How embarrassing...

In the end, I had a fantastic time, but I'm not sure how much was because the party was so great, and how much was due to my general inebriated state. In any case, it was the first time I've actually gotten up to dance at a company party. A group of us single women danced together, so it wasn't too risky.

The weirdest part about the evening had to be the breasts. Yes, you read it correctly. Apparently, several of my colleagues decided to have some pretty obvious er... enhancements made this past year. I mean, a person would usually have to watch Baywatch reruns to see this much cleavage. Enough said.

Okey-dokey, on to the next party: Last night, I went to an intimate (ie. small) dinner party at my German friends' house. They had a "German Christmas" theme. Now I'll admit that I'm usually wary of Germans being anti-semitic, but these friends are very supportive. [One time, they were with me when a Christian lady said that I can't mix my Christian and Jewish backgrounds. After she said that, my German friend privately said, "The devil is going to ride that lady's dead body straight to hell for judging not only Christians, but Jews as well!" (Ha ha ha!) I totally couldn't believe he said that! So as a result, they've definitely earned my appreciation.]

Last night's dinner was delicious, despite my contributions. (Granted, it was pretty scary, cooking German food for Germans.) I made Gluehwein (hot mulled wine), potato strudel, and brussels sprouts cooked in beer. I recommend all but the last, which, even though they were cooked in beer, still tasted like brussels sprouts.

Well, that's it for my weekend. It's Monday now, and I'm blogging from bed, too tired to get up and work. And now I have a clogged kitchen sink to contend with.