Anyhow, as I was saying, I woke up D around 4.

"...remember the company christmas party is tonight."

"Ghhnnnnrrrrrrrr."

"I've been reminding you of it for the last three days."

Her witty response: "Why did you not tell me this before?"

Wifey, being a freelance writer, has little need to leave the house, and she's become very comfortable in that mode. The grocery store is tolerable, because it's 3 blocks away, and the thrift shops are never a bad destination. However, anything else is a bit much for her.

The party wasn't to start until 6:30, and the fashionably late probably won't be until 7:30, so I had a couple hours to let D get into the mode of being around other people.

"Where's it again?" she asked.

"The HoDo."

"You know I don't have anything to wear there."

This is a running joke: When we talk about going out together on those rare child-free weekends, the HoDo is brought up. It's a hipster sort of barestaurant, a place where martinis are expensive, the food is unusual and scary, and they sometimes have valet parking in Fargo ND even though there's rarely a problem parking within a half-block of the building. To eat at such a fancy place, we'd have to get all fancied up...and, sadly, we don't have fancy-upping clothes -- not fancy enough for the HoDo, anyway. So we pick someplace less martini-and-mystery-canapes. The company party, however, is at the HoDo, and we can't pick anyplace else to go.

My first choice in fancying-up is a vintage 1970s blue paisley shirt, with an oversized collar and somebody else's initials monogrammed on the pocket. No, really, it's a kick ass shirt. Unfortunately, it was always a little curve-hugging on me, but my waist has gone up 4" in the past 5 years, and now the curve-hugging is kinda scary.

I end up wearing a monochromatic black ensemble, matching the wife. What made the matching ensembles most stylish was the vast amount of pet-hair attracted to the staticy fabrics. We hoped the lighting at the party would be dim.

And, happily, it was. Even though it was closer to 7 when we arrived, there were very few people there. So, we got drinks and sat in the corner. Sure, you can take the antisocial recluses out of the home-office, but they're still going to act creepy in public. While I won't recount the entire evening, I can tell you this:

Things Learned at the Company Christmas Party

1. Everyone thinks I'm some sort of genius. The boss' wife said how smart she heard I am, and everyone wanted to be my partner in Are You Smarter Than A Fifth Grader. Problem: I speak with authority, not facts. Sure, I'm right most of the time, but that's dumb luck. Wifey, upon reading this, will tell me to print it out and bring it to my psychiatrist. Still, I'm no genius.

2. When I'm not at work, rumours about my freelance work are bandied about. See, my connection to adult websites caused a rumour that I was a porn star. Seriously. That rumour has been partially continued, despite the mounting evidence against it, because the people I supervise love talking about the possibility of me being a porn star. Can't say I disapprove, because any compliment of my verility is kinda nice...but they're so secretive about it. I overheard that there's quite a bit said about me that will not be repeated in my presence. That worries me. Worries and pleases. But mostly worries.

3. One woman's underwear was not newly purchased. She was showing off the new ensemble she purchased for the party, pointing out how each piece was new. One person asked if her underwear was also new; it was not, so that was then clarified each time the story was repeated, to everyone's amusement.

4. The salmon may or may not have been raw, but it was tasty. I feel the microscopic parasites coursing through my veins as we speak. It was so tasty, I had seconds. I did enjoy the HoDo's food, although many people were fearful of the unfamiliar.

5. The coworker who was loudest about her New Year's Resolution has already broken it. She resolved to quit smoking, but was out on the sidewalk with a cigarette in hand last night. Naughty, naughty! I'd make a joke about spanking, but that'd be included in the events of #2 above.

6. Downtown is exotic to people. I'm not sure what to think about it -- for my dislike of what the downtown revitalization has done, I found myself recommending a lot of shops to my coworkers who say they rarely come downtown. The HoDo is in the center of downtown, but while I walk past it throughout the year I sat and talked with people who haven't even come downtown in years. This is an obstacle for downtown, similar to what I've said before. The downtown I love and live on the edge of was designed for downtown residents; it's going away, in favor of catering to non-downtown-residents. Those people, however, don't come downtown, but the downtown-residents are still here. There's the poor planning in the mix. Still, I hope I encouraged a couple people to patronize downtown, because the few stores I like (Revolver, Zandbroz, the antique shop in the Aggie Block) can use the traffic.

7. "Go West Young Man" was a quote from Horace Greely. This was my team's million dollar question to win the company game of Who's Smarter than a Fifth Grader. My guess, I can't remember what it was right now, was incorrect. My fellow team-members thought it was either B or C; I thought A, and per #1, above, the team sided with me. Greely was C.

8. Who's Smarter than a Fifth Grader isn't factual. In an earlier question, we were asked which was closer to the southern border of the United States: New Zealand, the South Pole, or the North Pole. Hawaii and New Zealand are closer (4,385mi) than Key West is from the North Pole (4,519mi, based on latitude), so New Zealand was our guess. No, they ignored Hawaii, and the "correct" answer was the North Pole. Also, in our losing question, the quote "Go west young man, and grow with the country" was not said by Greeley: it was said by John B. L. Soule, who was not listed as an option in the question. Not that it would have helped me, but it shows what they're teaching kids these days. I was also prepared to say that 'donner' is not the german word for thunder: I thought it was 'donder', but that's dutch. Sorry, Are...Fifth Grader, you win that round. And, yes, I do understand that actually researching the two measly questions we got wrong in Fifth Grader makes me a sad, bitter individual. That's my most attractive feature, you know.

I was hoping for 10 things learned, but I'd had 3 vodka & sours, which is a lot of drinkin' for me in 4 hours even with a meal in there, so we went home early. The party was fun, I can blame my poor performance in gradeschool facts on too much vodka, and I got to show off my wifey to my coworkers. A good night, had by all.

Derek, Derek, Derek... what are we to do with you? It's really cool having a porn star boss... don't take the dream away! Oh, by the way, nothing like reinforcing the fact I suck at making New Years resolutions... now I get to go tell everyone about your "stunt cock" performances... LOL! Yes... I agree, it was very good night.

--Ash, 01/06/2008 17:42:41