The work Christmas party was last night.
I wish I could say I had an awful time, but I really didn't.
The Swede came and picked me up, and he looked absolutely handsome. This wasn't a shock, since I find him handsome regularly. But he really stepped it up last night, and the outcome was wonderful. I internally swooned a little bit. Ok. A lot a bit.
The drive up to Monument, once we escaped the hideous I-25 traffic, was just gorgeous. Everything was covered in snow, and the streets were lined with huge, snowy trees. The effect was, as I always say of the snow, like staring at magic.
Having never been to a work function (1. I never had anybody that wanted to go with me, and I didn't want to show up alone and B. I always assumed I'd be bored out of my mind because nobody likes me), I had no idea The Hideaway is as pretty as it is. I introduced The Swede to the few people I like, we grabbed drinks, and then sat down at an empty table. I told him that yt?if it wound up being just us at the table, that I wouldn't care one bit. Sara came over and said she was going to sit with us instead, and then one of our vendors came over and sat next to me, and he was a riot to sit next to. He had a musical tie, which delighted me to no end, and he was pretty much a dead ringer for NPH. After dinner (which was decent, but nothing to write home about), they had this DELICIOUS peach cobbler for dessert. Sara got up to do some things, and Mark (our St. Aubyn vendor) stole her cobbler, and it actually took her awhile to notice. I think I had more fun with The Swede, Sara, and Mark than I did mingling with everybody else. Which I refrained from doing.
Sara told us that there was foosball and ping pong downstairs, so we grabbed our wine and moseyed. I played some foosball...fucking HORRIBLY...with Sara, Mark, and Danny, played an absolutely shit game of ping pong, watched a bit of Shark Tank, and then Sara suggested that the three of us leave and go to a bar, because she was bored, and we were bored (though, actually, when Sara and I had this conversation, The Swede was knee-deep in a ping pong game with one of my agents), and playing darts would have been ten times more fun. The Swede finished his game, and then we all left and went to Hilltop. It was so deliciously dive-y! I loved it. We were so overdressed, but that didn't matter a wink to me. We played a couple games of darts, and then we played pool.
Holy shit.
The Swede is fucking GOOD at pool. I'm not so bad myself, but jesus. It sparked such a fun competitive streak in me. I won the first game we played, he won the second, and I won the third by default because he scratched the eight (with honestly one of the most gorgeous pool shots I've ever seen in person). But he's really, really good. And again, not to be all gushy, but he looked god damn incredible. During the first game we played, I sank a pretty fucking gorgeous shot that made everybody go, "Damn!" or some similar exclamation, and Sara looked at The Swede and goes, "Yeah. I know her." this made me laugh uproariously. I spent most of the evening laughing. It was such a good night.
Sara bailed at about midnight. Stevie and Mike were considering meeting up with us, but Mike fell asleep and Stevie had flex time at 4, so that didn't happen, and The Swede and I left at 12:45 (after playing our final game of pool. The one I won on a technicality). That bar was actually really fucking fantastic. I made generic friends with quite a few people that were there, everybody was so friendly...I may tell Sara we should go back. She very much liked The Swede. We're in the middle of planning a non-office Work Christmas Party, and she told The Swede he needs to come.
It was so fucking cold out last night. It was 0 degrees when we left, and for some reason, my room never ever ever got warm. The Swede and I were balled together the whole night, and when I woke up this morning, his face was damn near frozen. The rest of him was quite warm (because my body is a god damn heater, and I was draped all about him like some sort of climbing vine), but his poor face. Ice.
I told him last night that I had missed him in the time I haven't seen him. And it made me nervous to do so. I don't want to freak him out or scare him off or anything along those lines, because I truly enjoy his company, and I'm very, very happy when he's around. I also don't want to walk down a route of things I say or feel not being reciprocated. That's ugly, and it doesn't feel nice. I have this horrible fear of that, but I also have this horrible need to be honest. When I feel something, I say it. Because I'm a fucking adult, that's why, and that's what adults do. We've been seeing each other for a month, and I'm getting to the point where I'd like to see him more often, and also that starting to actively and genuinely care about him. I'd hate to be alone in that, and the scared, nervous, insecure girl in me wants to just throw in the towel now and save myself the aggravation of finding out that that's just me, and he doesn't feel the same way, and Drea comes out looking foolish again.
INSTEAD, I'm just going to try and tone it down and be sensible and not be a freak, and I'll play this by ear. If he's got that going on, too, well that's fucking aces, and I'll be more than pleased. If not, I won't have said anything ridiculous, and I won't have to worry about budding feels getting trampled over. Everybody wins.
No comments:
Post a Comment