Do you dread those company parties as much as I do?

It's not that I don't like the lovely people my husband works with. Honestly, they're wonderful. But I don't know them well, so when the whole thing is over, I'm a wretched mess. Occasionally I can fool people into thinking that I'm some sort of party-girl gadfly. But I'm no Social Butterfly, no matter how much I flutter my wings at a party!

The company my husband works for is having their Annual Holiday Affair on Saturday night. It is semi-formal, and I'm 95.7% casual. So as with every year, I had to go shopping for that special something. I easily found a fancy new outfit for it yesterday (which is actually comfortable!). Then I went on a mad hunt for the perfect bunch of pretty crystal beads or maybe some black fresh-water pearls with which to make my Annual Matching Holiday Necklace and Earrings. 

The outfit was easy to find, for once. But the beads were difficult to pick out, to say the least. 

A disgruntled employee was feverishly stocking the bead isle, and I was obviously in her way. (I sort of thought she was in my way, seeing as how I was The Shopper. But being the overly submissive social pacifist that I am, I steered clear apologetically, as if I had no right to be there what-so-ever.)  She politely said, "You're okay," but I knew she was annoyed with my inability to quickly choose my beads and get on with life so she could get on with her stocking.

I understand. I was between her and her task at hand on Isle #4 for two full hours. That's a long darn time. As it was, I finally had to find an out of the way place to sit and look things over. My stocker friend could have solved the whole time-consuming situation by just looking over at the conglomeration of beads in my hands and pointing. "Those three are great, but ditch the golden pearls and get rid of the smoky quartz, already." I'd have just said, "Yes ma'am," and been outta there. 

At last I managed to pick out my beads, and I headed home semi-triumphantly. Of course, I won't know if the beads are a trophy or trash until I finish my necklace this afternoon. I know it's going to be three strands, but I haven't yet got any solid ideas about how to combine all those pretties into one cohesive string of stunning gorgeousness. I am hopeful, however. After all, they're already a mighty pretty pile of fancies laid out expectantly upon my work table.

I'll try to photograph them when they're all done.

But for now, TTFN (Tigger talk, remember? "Ta-ta for now.")
Deber