On Thursday night, I went to the Confederation Centre's Christmas Party. You know, to celebrate the birth of our Lord. Huh, now that I think of it, Jesus was rarely mentioned.
They had Sizzler as the caterer, which I thought was funny and kinda hillbilly. Until I tried their chicken breast. Did you know Sizzler makes a mean chicken breast? It's true.
There was a live band, there, too, which has played at other events that the Confed Centre has hosted, and oftentimes the dance floor is empty, so I kinda just assumed that they were no good. I can't say I supported their repertoire as I was in a rabid Beastie Boys mood and they were playing more Kenny Chesney than Adam Yauch, but they were pretty good. They did play some Queen, which always redeems anyone.
Nonetheless, I danced like I was in one of those ALS ads. This was super fun, as I love dancing in non-threatening atmospheres like weddings and livingrooms and showers. Not places where I'm expected to have both a lot of cleavage and a supportive bra. The laws of physics just aren't on my side in those situations.
Unfortunately, I didn't plan ahead since I wore a long-sleeve tutleneck and I was soon uncomfortably warm. And by uncomfortibly warm, I mean, sweating like a pig. My beautiful hair, which looked awesome when I arrived, was soon a stringy mess, and I was stretching at the neck of my sweater like that Dane Cook skit on SNL. Oh, well. I had so much fun. I didn't get home until 3:30am.
I didn't see a lot of the FOH (theatre) crowd, and spent some time with the Gallerians (Shiobhan, Ben, and Monique), but mostly sat with the BO Brigade (Box Officers). I thought that was strange, but we're all kinda intermingled anyway. There were a couple of youngins that got their drink on, and were dancing their teenaged faces off. That is all I have to say about that.
Hey! I guess our Lord was discussed that evening.
"Jesus Christ! Will you stop reminding me how young he is?"