Last Friday was one of those weird days with a million little discombubulated things going on. The impending snow storm set the mood for the day as I took one of our actors out to a school in Lima, about 30 minutes south of Rochester, to share theatrical process and artistic conversation with a class of high school students who had attended one of the student matinee performances of A Christmas Carol earlier in the week. He treated us to some warm drinks from Starbucks and good conversation for the ride there and the teacher had baked carrot walnut cupcakes for our visit. Not a bad morning! The snow storm arrived right as we left the school, which made for a slow, white, slick, and cautious drive back into the city. But we made it! This Texan is learning a thing or two about snow driving at last! Back at work I spent the next several hours frantically gathering final preparations for our staff holiday party and wrapping the staff gifts with help from a few of my co-workers on the mezz before Ted picked me up for a mid-afternoon eye appointment – over the canal and through the snow – in Fairport.
Eye appointments. Oooff. That one day of the year where I am guaranteed a huge helping of humble pie. That one day of the year where I am shocked to find that, contrary to my own belief, my eyesight can, in fact, get worse. That one day of the year when I struggle to read a line of black letters on a white lit wall, only to take my contacts out and have the black letters disappear entirely, and all I can see is a glowing white light coming from across the room and I find myself, once again, utterly perplexed that my uncorrected vision really can be that bad. That one day of the year where they drop yellow dye into my eyeballs and I am told, yet again, that there are no numbers in those little lines of black text – only letters, which I clearly can’t see anyway if I thought they were all numbers. On the plus side, it all turned out to be slightly less expensive than we thought it would be, including the exam fees and a year’s supply of contacts, and I got a nifty new pair of prescription spectacles with a sweet frame for only an additional $15. Of course, I feel awful because Ted is the one who really, really needs new glasses to replace his from seven years ago that are an outdated prescription and scratched to all hell – and somehow, I’m the one who ended up with new glasses. It just doesn’t seem fair, you know?
For a special treat, we hit up Five Guys for a terrible and wonderful, quick and cheap dinner of the the best fast food cheeseburgers and fries (seriously, so delicious) and then we headed off – through the snow (sensing a theme?) to my friend Tate’s for her White Elephant Party…which was amazing!
Tate made this incredible gin punch, which was just off-the-charts delicious. I am desperate for the recipe (which includes something like apple cider, ginger beer, gin, lemon juice, sugar, and cranberries) and downed several cups of the stuff…it was that good, and beautiful too!
Clearly, the gin punch was very important to me considering that’s the only thing I got a picture of the whole entire night before my phone died. There were plenty of other picture-worthy things – a whole buffet of delicious food and desserts, beautiful Christmasy decorations, handfuls of lovely people and good friends, and – of course – the most odd/offbeat/weird/horrendous/utterly amazing white elephants gifts that were selected, unwrapped, laughed at, explained, and traded (not limited to three curtain panels, cricket lollipops, an assortment of hilarious books, hideous ornaments, microwaveable socks, nonsensical handmade Christmas cards, horrendous poney-tale holders, and inappropriate origami – just to name a few).
All of that goodness and I walked away with one picture of gin punch.
Priorities, right?
I was the lucky (and legitimately thrilled, all kidding aside) recipient of a pair of microwaveable socks (which are fantastic, because I obviously tried them on immediately and have wondered how I have lived without them for so long) and a bible accompaniment book that was previously gifted to a friend who is Jewish. Ted walked away with a pair of poney-tale holders (yellow St. Patrick’s day pom-pom balls smoking pipes? We’re not sure, but needless to say, I gained custody of them pretty quickly, as evidenced by the photo below) and a Halloween beer mug that someone borrowed from a bar down the street last year.
{Credit for this gem goes to Tate}
It was a ton of fun and we are eagerly awaiting next year’s party. We’ll probably also spend the entirety of the next 365 days scavenging for the most obnoxious white elephant gifts around, so everyone, you have been warned.
How do you feel about White Elephant parties? Have you been to one yet this season? If so, what treasure did you receive?
