Friday, December 03, 2004



Each year about this time the work parties roll out. One for me, one for him. My work parties tend to be fairly low key and sometimes don't happen at all or are thrown together at the last minute as, for example, last year's "everybody who can make it, come over to Jan's tomorrow night. Someone is bringing a karaoke machine. " party. We were busy but I got to see the pictures, which was almost like being there. Sometimes better. Charles's work parties tend to be more along the lines of "events". His school also has the rep of being the best of the partiers, which is saying something in the realm of teachers. For years past, the parties have been similar on the dress code side: black velvet, heels, that sort of thing. Surprising to me, actually, as it is held invariably at the local Eagle's club (hey, the choices are the Elks, the Moose, or the Eagles in Freeport) and dinner is a choice of T-bone steak or chicken breast, both cook-your-own. The meat is accompanied by the usual Midwest sides of bread, iceberg lettuce with shaved carrots, and, as I recall, corn and potatoes. After dinner comes the planned fun and games that degenerate into drunken dancing.

I have only attended one of these soirees, that being our first year. The second year I was doing that post-partum-no-sleep-can't-fit-into-anything-remotely-clothes-like-and-I'll-be-damned-if-I-go-wearing-maternity thing. Last year, it was held on the day Lilian arrived to live with us and we felt it would be a bit, well, rude to say, "Hi, nice for you to move 2,000 miles out to live, see you tomorrow morning. The guest bed is made up. Byeee!"

So that brings us to this year. The year I bought the first party clothes I have gotten in 13 years. Black velvet, gold, heels. Let's go!

Friday last, I answered the phone:


"Hi Diana, it's Stacy." (Charles's asst principal, and one of several who look out for me, thank God!)

"Hey, Stacy. What's up?"

"I need to talk to Charles about a couple of things but wanted to make sure he told you that the Christmas party is Hawaiian this year."

"Hawaiian? Huh. Hawaiian Christmas party? Really? Well. Thanks so much for the head's up. No, no, he didn't tell me. Good to know. Hang on, I'll let you speak to him while I figure where to hide his body after I'm done with it. Take care and I'll see you Saturday! Bye!"

Well, I did let him live, but only because I know there is no worse punishment for him than having to go to a theme party. Especially one he can't drink at because, well, 1: principal in a v. Conservative town and 2: he doesn't like to have someone else drive, so he is designated driver.

So, I have borrowed one large print flowered shirt, one lei, and have flirted with adding a pair of long knee-length shorts, black calf length socks, white velcro shoes, painting my nose with zinc oxide and hanging a large camera around my neck, but I probably will just wear khakis and maybe flip flops.

No wonder I only buy party clothes every 13 years.

Ho! Ho! Ho! Aloha Oi and Hawaii Five-O to you!



Anonymous Anonymous said...

Fear not, Piffle-Head, nothing is permanent but change. We too had faculty orgies that have subsided into potluck at lunch in the faculty room. I hear there are breakfasts each year, but I missed about 20 of them.

Piffle On!!!


1:30 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Life is just not fair! When we only have one season a year to dress up in party clothes I think it should be off limits for anything else, especially Hawaiian - In December??!! Hope you have a blast anyway. And I think the new "make-up routine" of zincoxide on the nose is a must - at least upon arrival.

3:43 PM  

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