Had quite the social whirlwind-y kind of weekend.
Friday was chock full of red wine and hysterical laughter. We got together to plan our weekend at Lake Anna. Not quite as much planning happened as wine drinking, cheese dancing and general frivolity. I love my friends.
Saturday night was the annual Christmas party. It was all I could do to drag myself away from "The Sound of Music" - thank goodness for TiVo - so I finished watching it this afternoon. Anyway, the party was fun for the most part. There was this huge deal made about how it was a holiday party and that jeans and tee shirts were taboo, yet we were expected to stand outside under the rented tent and use the Port-A-Potty. I'm sorry, I'm supposed to wade through the mud in girl-shoes and ankle length velvet then use a Port-A-Potty? I don't think so.
For the most part the party was uneventful. Uncomfy shoes, Francisco the marshmellow/pretzel rod/fruit rollup dude, gorging on meatballs, feeble attempts to recreate Legspreaders and VAM & Steve seranading the living room with 'Do You Hear the People Sing' from Les Miz.
The evening culminated with my typical round of goodbyes and as I was heading over to say g'night to C, M walked up to me and said, "Merry Christmas, J." I never broke stride, but did say Merry Christmas back, and for some reason, he took this as an invitation to try to kiss me.
WHAT?!?!?!? Could he really be that stupid?
The answer is yes.
At first I leaned away and he kept pushing so I finally had to shove him off and yell, "No, M!" I don't understand how he could possibly think that it's okay to break one of my best friends' hearts and think that I'm still going to play nice. I didn't shove him into the firepit but that's about as civil as I'm capable of swinging. Ugh. Moron.
Tomorrow: Carbon Leaf and the long awaited project audit.