I had a very very very busy weekend last weekend, mostly because all of the holiday party biznaz is hitting the social events fan.

Friday – Nicole’s Birthday in the East End

Drank French Martinis in my fancy bathroom while getting ready.  If you have not discovered French Martinis then I feel sorry for your face.  They are wonderful and frothy and sweet and BOOZY.

I ended up drinking vodka, chambord, wine, beer, and champagne that night.  This is what I felt like the next morning:

But I couldn’t dilly-dally, because…

Saturday: Hosted Holiday Party with Dinner, Gift Exchange, etc

I have a bunch of friends from University who still get together every year and have a full-on, blow-out Christmas party with gifts and dress-up and what not.  I am not really into Christmas… not being really religious… or into like, big-ass Christmas decorations or whatever.  But I like parties.  AND I like theme parties.  And I guess Christmas parties are just like, kind of theme parties.  Is it bad that I say that?  I mean,  I’m sure Jesus wouldn’t mind. 

ANYWAYS, I had to go out and run a billion errands, which of course turned into me going into vintage stores and trying on dresses to wear to the party.  I mean, let’s get our priorities STRAIGHT here.

I found an ADORABLE dress at Common Sort that fit me like a glove.

It’s like a dress that Zooey Deschanel would wear.  And the big stripe of light makes me feel like Ziggy Stardust.  So I felt like Zooey Stardust.

All it needed was an add-on belt and some curly-swirly 70′s hair and I was feelin’ pretty damn smokers.  It was totally a dress that some housewife wore for her Christmas party in 1968.  Wicked.

Now, given the opportunity, I enjoy dressing my dog up like a human sometimes.  Only sometimes.  And I was having a Christmas-theme-party.  And wearing a green dress.  AND Molly has a green sweater.  COME ON.  Give me a break.

 

LIKE COME ON.  GIVE ME A BREAK.

She actually HATED the sweater and decided to act all dramatic and lie on the ground like she was going to spontaneously die.  So I had to take it off.

Anyways, I made a feeble attempt at Christmasizing my house…

FYI – this is the best Christmas album you will ever buy.  PLUS my parents had it when I was a wee child.  It made my whole night.

I even made little “Eat My Salty Christmas Nuts” goodies for people…

Dinner was unbelieveable…

Yep, 10-pound Roast.

Perfect Yorkshire Puddings.  Which I had never eaten before and assumed was some kind of weird English Dessert.

Crazy red wine gravy.

And after a few more drinks, we moved on to the gift exchange.  We put a new rule in place this year – presents all had to be purchased at a second hand or pawn shop.  WHICH WAS THE BEST IDEA EVER.  Here are some of the items…

 
Ugly Christmas Sweater.

Used Dirty Novellas.

Stinky Onion Holder.

Fully Functioning Solar System Replica.  Pluto Included.

European Party Pac Album.  Canada Included.

Whaaat?  Metallica Kill ‘Em All Album.

Sick Early-90′s Outfit.

Full Christmas Get-Up.  Suspenders Included.

A special hostess gift for me.  I Am T-Pain Mic.  It’s just what I always wanted.

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST…

My favourite gift of the evening.  A Max Steel doll.  Honestly, dolls are the best. 

Especially random male dolls with obscene muscles and rollerblades and helmets.

Especially random male dolls with obscene muscles and rollerblades and helmets and inexplicable curved hands that look like they’re gripping something.

Especially random male dolls with obscene muscles and rollerblades and helmets and  inexplicable curved hands that look like they’re gripping something and have multiple moveable parts so you can put them in different positions.

Anyways, we all got pretty messed up, the house got pretty messed up, Max Steel got pretty messed up…

And we ended the night in my music room/office blaring Metallica on vinyl, wasted and eating Sour Cream and Onion Ruffles.  Now that’s my idea of a good Christmas.

Suffice it to say, Sunday morning I felt like this:

But I couldn’t dilly-dally because…

Sunday: Fancy-Pants Work Holiday Party

My holiday party at work is a big fancy affair in a ballroom with big dresses and delicious food and entertainers and trip giveaways and stuff.

Here’s what I wore:

Yep.  Same belt from yesterday.

I love fancy parties around the holidays because it gives you an excuse to do huge delicious cat-eye eyeliner

And I’m spent.  This is what I felt like Monday morning: