Double double, shiny souvenirs and Voss water bottles.

Bosom friends!

I am back.
Missed me?
Yes? Good for you!

I hope you all recall that this past weekend I was busy fulfilling one of my countless First Lady duties. Also known as the annual corporate Christmas party.

This year was my first time attending such an event. I felt like a debutante ready to plunge into society. Like a virgin bride on her wedding night. Excited and slightly discomposed. Perhaps a bit gassy too. What a winning mix.

The party was hosted at a hotel I still can't manage to remember the name of...Let me Google it quickly...Oh yes it was the Diplomat Resort & Spa in Hollywood.
First of all I got the location wrong...I didn't need to go to Fort Lauderdale, but Hollywood, Florida.
Same difference I have to say. Look, it's already bad enough that I have the sense of direction of a 3 year old, but not to even know where I am at? I was already there, I didn't need to get there. I always say to hubby I don't get lost, I just find alternative destinations. Very philosophical way to say that I even forget which way forward is.
Anyway...
The Diplomat looks like any other big hotel from the outside, with its Colossus of Rhodes size Christmas wreaths hanging from its princess place entrance.
But on the inside it's an actual modern day cathedral. Instead of arches and pillars it has palm trees in perfect Floridian style, but with same God-fearing effect. I was ready to inhale incense and to kneel to say a little prayer like a proper rosary rattler. Instead I decided to wear my rosary that night but only as a fashion statement.

Nothing about the Diplomat was diplomatic at all. Once again I was faced with a perpetual "the bigger the better" way of living. Nothing wrong with that but I was a bit confused while at the lobby's bar. I almost ordered Holy water instead of soda water (for my white wine spritzer obviously).

Once I gathered myself (after the initial bigness related stupor), we proceeded to check-in at the reception. Lovely Allan was very nice but a tad bitchy since his replacement was 10 minutes late and a gay boy ain't got time for that on a Saturday afternoon. Drinking and accessorizing take priority above all on a weekend. I am well aware of that, I wrote the book.

Thanks to the corporate rate, they put us in a delicious room with an even yummier view of the ocean. We were so far up (26th floor) that once we got out of the elevator our ears popped. Even the air was healthier.
We unpacked, actually I unpacked and discovered with consternation that hubby had packed his stuff like he was trying to make origami with his clothes. I saw a shirt and a pair of pants in the shape of a swan and a flamingo.
Hubby was coming straight from a week away on a sales conference, so he had to do the whole thing by himself. Without my supervision. I could definitely tell. A baboon could have told and perhaps a chimp could have done a better job too.
Hubby has a myriad of skills, packing is positively NOT one of them.
After I surrendered to the fact that I was going to have to iron his outfit for the party, I told him I was in need of food since I was getting into full "hunchy" mode (bitchy because I am hungry).
Since hubby didn't have enough time before I was gonna turn into an ate after midnight Gremlin we opted to sit at the restaurant in the hotel lobby.
The "Cafe" restaurant was the size of a little votive chapel inside the cathedral. Cirque de Soleil could have done a show in there. Once my white wine spritzer had worked its wonders I was relaxed enough to go back to our room and take our disco nap in preparation for the evening event (we are both so not in our 20's anymore...).

After an accurate beauty ritual hubby and I were both ready to get the party started.
With our theme-matching socks and leather bow and neck ties, we were ready to mingle the shit out of all the other guests.

Mandatory before party picture. While the make up is still not running down your face.

Unfortunately I choose the wrong location to wait for my hubby's colleagues. Too close to the huge Christmas tree in the lobby. I had to take at least 15 pictures of strangers in front of the decorated pine tree. I was supposed to be photographed! Even Annie Leibovitz would have given up. Next time I will stand with Annie next to the Menorah, which was located just next to the pagan tree.

Once our group got organized we moved to the actual welcome cocktail reception area.
But first we had to get branded with this:

Admission bracelet.

No tacky ink stamps on our wrists but festive orange bracelets instead. Orange is the new black, right?

The welcome venue was really well put together.
Props, lights, live singers and dancers parading around in fancy costumes or doing a split right under our noses.
They went all out for this party. As they should have, since the theme was Indulgence. There is nothing worse than a title that doesn't match the content of an entertaining affair. Like going to a party called "Rock Stars" and ending up attending a Justin Bieber themed gathering. Not cool.
In this case though our expectations were met in full. Above and Beyond. Even the water they offered at the bar was fancy. Single serving, little Voss water bottles. No cheap stakes here. Still not Holy water but Voss water was the next best thing.

While we were sipping our never ending supply of champagne we got to feast our eyes on many different characters but as usual a picture is worth a thousand words, so here we go:

The humming bird singer.

Showgirl in a gilded cage.

Welcoming lady.

Very tall welcoming lady...

My personal favorite was the Champagne Lady of course.
Her skirt was made out of Bubbly flutes that you could just grab every time she passed by. I followed her quite consistently. No wonder.

The Champagne Lady.

I didn't expect to see so many of the office employees. And I didn't think there were so many of them working for the same company. It was like swimming in a sea of strangers while knowing from where each of their paychecks come from. So intimate for a first date.
Indeed intimate. When you are at a very well attended party your personal space shrinks down considerably. At a party that size, you must be willing to deal with what you would usually consider sexual harassment on an busy bus. And smile all the way through the inappropriate physical contact. Have you ever found yourself dancing the notorious Minuet Party Dance? When you are trying to make your way to the Champagne Lady, but another guest is crossing your path to go to the Vodka dude, and both of you don't really know who is going to pass first? Or last? Inevitably you both end up tiptoeing from side to side like a nervous ferret. Like a hamster getting his groove on. Or a gerbil on a disco-fever trip. You might as well start doing "the robot", stiff but trying to look natural and groovy. Don't lie, we have all been there. Like two bandits in an old Western movie standing in front of each other during a gunfight, waiting for the first one to make a move to resolve the duel.
I had to put my skills for the Minuet Party Dance to the test.
Luckily I managed not to step on anybodies toes.
But everybody else didn't mind bumping into me at all. My drink was constantly spilling out of my Champagne flute. I looked like a syncopated yet out of sync fountain at the Bellagio in Vegas. Also I hate wasting any kind of booze. There is no sin in being thrifty.

The whole presentation was beautiful though.
The only thing that kind of bothered me is that my hubby's blazer kept getting complimented WAY more than mine. The blazer that I scavenged for him. My find. I was the deus-ex-machina behind the ravishing look that the apple of my eye was sporting. I found solace in the fact that behind a great man there's always a big homo. The homo being me. I also support the theory that my hubby suggested when I voiced my discontent. My other half said that I was looking too good for compliments. In all honesty that is the kind of delusion that keeps me going. Bless the both of us.

Tough crowd.

After we were all fueled with plenty of welcome drinks we were gracefully directed to the ballroom where the whole night was going to happen, speeches and entertainment included (I don't remember the name of it but it was something like "crystal" or "palladian" or "majestic").
Like placid cattle we made our way to the entrance of the Ballroom that had been decorated for the occasion. The whole night was going to be like an old fashion fair/circus and all the trickery that comes with that sort of theme.

Welcome, welcome.

Luckily they had open seating at the big round tables so nobody had to endure the company of a complete stranger for the duration of the ceremony. Well sort of. Well we can't all be that lucky...

All around there were singers and dancers populating this huge room with circus like costumes and showing off skills that required a minimum of a 30 minutes warm up. I used to be one of them. As a matter of fact that night I met one of my former colleague whom I worked with not too many moons ago. He was part of the circus-like crew but for some reason they dressed him as Blossom. The resemblance was uncanny.

 

David/Blossom and I.

Blossom.

Before the show could begin the speeches made by the VIP's had to take place.
To my complete and utter delight I had the privilege (as a "First Lady") to be exposed not to one but nonetheless to two CEO's!!!
Double double bitcheeees!
Bosom friends the outgoing CEO of the company and the incoming one were both under the same roof. The former CEO resembled Woody Allen quite a bit. In a handsomer kind of way and without the nasty daughter-bride-to-be kind of inclination.
He said goodbye to the whole lot and introduce my second CEO of the night. She was very graceful in taking over the kingdom and she looked like a shorter version of Martha Stewart but with the same kind of accomplished nuance.
It's a good thing.
I didn't get to show off my well rehearsed curtsy to either of them, but I just moved to Miami, there will be other times to make a fool of myself in grand style.
Following the pass of sceptre between CEO's we enjoyed an Academy Awards - Oscars night moment when they awarded the Employee of the Year prize. It all came with drum rolls and a teary-eyed winner. Luckily they skipped the nominations part so we didn't have to witness the fake happy for you - he really deserved it facial expressions of the other candidates.

After all of this we were all free to lose our names and faces the way we wanted, while enjoying the entertainment that was offered in perfect old-fashion circus style.

Here are some more of the performers:

Pole dancing is here to stay.

Stretch properly.

It Italy is considered bad luck sporting an umbrella indoors...

Striking a pose with Blossom.

The production.

It was all very entertaining. Until the juggler started his number... He was actually really good, but I had my fair share of juggling balls my whole life so I am kind of over that art form (balls referred to as life obstacles...get your minds out of the gutter...).

A singer impersonator was also included in the package. She was quite popular on YouTube and she was even on the Ellen DeGeneres Show. In any case that night we didn't need to sit through yet another rendition of "Let it Go" (from the movie Frozen) sang by Liza, Celine, Tina and all of the others she impersonated. Perhaps is was the wrong venue for such act. All I can say is that the last note form that song came out at such a screeching level that few of the rosary beads I was wearing fell off. A belted finale that nobody saw coming but that we all felt when it hit us like a ton of gingerbread bricks.

We couldn't end the night without the ritual picture in front of a green screen. Hubby and I opted for a fitting prop to wear in the shot. We choose Elvis Presley golden sunglasses with incorporated crown. Very fetching. 

The belles of the ball.

Many party gadgets were provided during the night from cut out photo booth props to shiny souvenirs to take home with you.

For every taste.

VERY fetching.

At the end of this whole corporate pageant I found myself with one too many new names to remember and not enough mnemonic skills to retain them all.

I am also very proud to report that I didn't say or do anything that would have had the result of having divorce papers delivered to my doorstep.

I can for sure say that I have survived my first Christmas office party and that I brought home a shiny souvenir (in the shape of a silver tambourine) and a bottle of fancy, free Voss water to prove it.

Ciao for now.