Last night was PIO's annual Xmas cookie party. He's one of the few people that can send out an invitation out 48 hours in advance and still get fifty people to show up.
My big sis and I got there a little bit early and started cooking a batch of pretzel/Hershey's Kisses sandwich thingies. Spread small pretzels on a cookie sheet, place a Kiss upon each one, then put the sheet in the oven for about a minute. As soon as the kiss is suitably softened, take 'em out of the oven, squish another pretzel on top and let cool. I personal prefer the chocolate/peanut butter kisses. Super tasty! Then she whipped up some magic cookies and eventually other people started showing up.
Two of my very-much-least-favorite people showed up not too long into the evening. M walked in first and I was probably the first person he saw. He said hi and I responded with civility. Didn't think bloodshed in PIO's swanky pad was a good idea. Of course, then I had to refill my drink and leave the room before I killed him. L showed up about 20 minutes later and we exchanged similar half-pleasantries. I spent the rest of the evening working in mini-circles to avoid them as much as I could.
Intellectually, I know they have every bit as much a right to be there as I do, but I really am okay with not having to share oxygen with them. As my friend Shannon said, 'running the gauntlet' at a party trying to dodge people just makes socializing not v. much fun. In some ways I'm glad the first encounter is out of the way. We've established that I'm not going to murder them and conveyed that I'm not going to play the "We're still buds, right?" game, so all's well that ends.
Only PIO would own a Billy Bass that sings Christmas carols. It's horrifying. He blames it on the MV White Elephant but I don't believe it.