The Gurly Life

On being "arrested"

The last couple of weeks, I have been fundraising for the MDA, the Muscular Dystrophy Association. The deal was that a group of us from the office would get "arrested" by firefighters and get taken to "jail." Jail being The Old Spaghetti Factory, and "arrested" meaning a cute young firefighter 

 

who politely asked the receptionist to let us know he was there to pick us up. In a convertible Cadillac, no less - some paddy wagon! Look at me, I'm so jazzed to be next to that strapping young man, it's almost obscene. This young man is from one of our city fire departments, so how weird would it be if I had to sue myself for sexual harassment? Weird.

We rode in the comfortable luxury car to the restaurant, which serves gluten free pasta, by the way, otherwise there would have been bitching. The ladies hosting the event were very sweet, and they took this picture of us.

  

How you know that this is not a real jail is because of the big red hearts. Otherwise, it's TOTALLY realistic. Totally.

We sat at our table, and tried to look serious. This is the result.

 
 

We are terrible actresses. I need to remember than letting my boobs sag does not make me look serious, it just makes me look old.

One of the nice ladies came over to tell Ivy that her contribution paid for a day of camp for a kid with MDA (or something) and one minute of research. The she turned to me and said "Oh and you did great, too!" Eh-hem. Yeeeaaah. Ivy got a plaque because she raised lots of money. Way to go, Ivy!

After lunch, we go to meet Holly, MDA's goodwill ambassador, who told us all about summer camp. They ride horses (one person on each side and one person leads the horse), they swim, they throw goo at the camp counselors, and do all sorts of other fun stuff. But they need lots of assistance and helpers, and all that costs money.

  

Holly is in 6th grade, and what a pretty girl she is. Her eyes sparkle, and her little face is so full of life I felt so privileged to talk to her and hear what this organization funds. We were very glad we did this. I think next year I'll do it again, and will certainly continue to contribute to this wonderful organization.

Thanks to all of you who contributed to this event, it was fun and really sweet, and a great, great cause.

Please stand by... -- Updated

...while I recover from the massive migraine that made a nest in my head today. It's now 2:30 p.m. and finally it's lifting. Had a lovely birthday, I'll update this later, but here's a photo of me and Willow at my little pot luck dinner. I'm wearing my new hat, a gift from Michael, which apparently looks rather good. Wide-brimmed hats, huh? How 19th century...

 

Here are the other pics, if you want to see, on Flickr (if you're on FB they're also on there).

[Edited to add:]

For starters, I did not get to yoga today, or the farmer's market, or the beach. I wasn't going to be able to do all three, maybe two out of three, but I was floored by a lovely migraine. As migraines go, it was not the most acute I've had (I only threw up once!), but it had teeth. And it hung on. From 6 this morning. So two thirds of my Sunday were spent in or on my bed, in the dark, trying to sleep and being kept awake by one or other of the cats who were purring loudly to help.

Anyway, yesterday was my birthday, as pretty much everyone knows. I started off by going to yoga, of course. Then in the afternoon I went with the usual suspects to see UP at the El Capitan in 3-D. Fabulous movie, by the way. I think it might snag a best movie nomination from the Academy this year, and I don't just mean best animation.

Part of the reason we go to the El Capitan is that they usually have a fun pre-show, usually populated by various and sundry Disney characters. In my experience, the pre-shows have always been a lot of fun, especially if you're a Disney fan. But this time, I'm sorry to say, the show was horrifying. Don't get me wrong, the performers were great, and they really put their hearts into it. But the concept was just an acid trip, and I've never even taken acid. Something about summer and being cheerful, and then a couple of songs you recognized like the Harry Belafonte song they used in Beetlejuice. There were some Disney characters, Donald and Mickey and a couple more, but they mostly bounced around in the background. We clapped and cheered because, frankly, we felt bad for those performers. I mean, can you imagine? Some of them probably went to Julliard, and here they were. Better than the unemployment line, granted, but WTF? It seemed like Disney hired an outside entertainment contractor and didn't check before approving the show.

After the movie (again, awesome movie, highly recommend it even if you're not into animation), we trooped back to my place for a little pot luck dinner. The rules were no gluten, no pork, and vegan was a preference. We got a bunch of vegan stuff, so for once Dee didn't just eat the food that she brought. Gluten and pork were banned because of my and Willow's allergies. Kristen is a picky eater, too, but as far as I know she's not allergic to stuff. But I think she got something to eat.

There were more people here than I've ever had, except one time I had a homework party during the Introduction Leaders Program, and it got unexpectedly mobbed. But that was years ago. Anyway, my little place was kinda cramped, but the conversation flowed despite the occasional nerd moment, like when Michael said "Like the first line of Anna Karenina says..." Bless his heart.

We had a minor cat incident. Missy, old lady that she is, didn't leave when she started getting stressed by the people and the noise and when Willow was petting her she hissed and scratched. Note to self, make sure cats are securely plopped on bed before the guests arrive.

Today I finally got out of bed once the migraine subsided, and went to see Transformers in the theater with Ivy and Frederick. I don't think the plot is its biggest problem, I think the dialogue is trite, the music is overblown, and there were so many shots-in-the-round that a couple of times I got dizzy and felt a little nauseated. But it's still good fun. I think my favorite moments are the shot of John Turturro's butt in a jock strap, which then goes around to the front -- by far the most random shot in the movie; and at the end, there's a shot with one of the transformers standing by the Sphinx, and there's a bird fluttering on the Sphinx's nose that looks suspiciously like a duck. I'm telling you, ducks are awesome.

And that's it. Tomorrow I once again make the attempt to suck it up and do my jury duty duty. I keep promising I'm just going to do it, and hopefully not end up on a jury, but then I can't stand it and I postpone it. It's not that I don't want to be on a jury, it's just that then I have to make up all those hours, and I'm still trying to make up the hours from my March vacation, for heaven's sake.

Posting these because a friend sent them from the Staples Center

 

 

Thanks to Jonathan for the live photos.

Volunteers for justice

Last night I went to the Public Law Center's 2009 Volunteers For Justice Dinner. From a purely selfish perspective, I am grateful that I could eat most of the meal. Thankfully, they didn't bread everything (yes, I have been confronted by breaded beef!) and add flour to everything. But I digress.

The PLC provides legal services to low income residents of Orange County. Many attorneys provide pro bono services, coordinated by the PLC. Our firm is one of those. Our attorneys volunteer twice a month at the La Habra Family Resource Center, doing intake interviews. Then the PLC staff creates a list of cases that need pro bono help, and the lawyers and law firms that help pick up cases as they are able to.

The dinner is both a fundraiser and an opportunity to acknowledge the attorneys who provide pro bono services. There were 700 attorneys in the room. 3 awards were given out: the Volunteer Center of Orange County received the Community Partner of the Year, Deborah Mallgrave got Attorney of the Year, and Howrey LLP was Law Firm of the Year.

The recipients really are extraordinary. Deborah Mallgrave talked about how she does pro bono work because her parents taught her to help those less fortunate, and because Spiderman reminds us that with great power comes great responsibility (she's a mom, can you tell?). She mentioned the jokes and the stereotypes and the stigma of being an attorney, and that pro bono work reminds her what a difference attorneys can make.

Howrey, the Law Firm of the Year, performed a total of 82,000 hours of pro bono work last year. Oh yes, our jaws fell to the floor at this staggering number. For anyone who has tried to bill at any time in their life, I think you can appreciate the magnitude of this effort. But if you haven't billed before, think of it in purely economic terms. 82,000 hours is the equivalent of 10,250 8-hour workdays, or 2,050 40-hour work weeks, or 40 years' worth of 40-hour work weeks (with no vacation). Another way to say it is, if you assume an average billing rate of $300 per hour, it comes to $24,600,000 worth of legal assistance. That is A LOT.  It seems from their website that they have 600-800 attorneys. Let's say, 700. That averages out at 117 hours of pro bono work per year. That, my friends, is almost a month's work. And totally, unequivocally, awesome. (I bet they get the summer law clerks to do a lot of it, but whatever, at least it's getting done!)

They had a silent auction before the dinner with a ton of stuff. Unfortunately, I didn't make it till about 5 minutes before the dinner, so I didn't participate. But one of the items was the perfect puppy: a tiny yorky, including a year's worth of vet bills. Man, I was tempted by the damn puppy. (Because I am who I am, I emailed the silent auction people today to make sure the dog found a good home.)

The keynote speaker was CNN political analyst William Schneider. He spoke for about 30 minutes, and he talked mostly about how Obama got elected and what he is trying to do. Schneider posits that politically, we are still fighting the 60's fights (if you think more good than harm came out of the 60's you're a Democrat, and if you think more harm than good came out of the 60's you're a Republican). What Obama is trying to do is move us beyond this, and in fact, he has begun a movement. Schneider reminded us that Obama has 10 major initiatives he's pushing forward, each of which on its own would be a major undertaking for an administration, let alone 10 of them. When his administration or anyone else tells him it might be wise to wait on some of the initiatives until the economy has recovered, Obama's response is that the American people don't have the luxury of dealing with one thing at one time. They have to deal with it all, all the time. Therefore so should their government. What I have to say to that is, ROCK ON!

I can't do Schneider's address justice, but it was great. I was going to stay for the first few minutes, and before I knew it, he was done and 30 minutes had passed. 

Bottom line: great event. Will make it an annual pilgrimage, assuming my generous boss continues to support the PLC and buy the tickets. Heck, I might even spring for a ticket myself, but next year I will for sure get there ealier for the silent auction.

Another Mayor's Ball

Last night I went to yet another city function. It is a sign of the times that there were fewer people than usual, fewer decorations, and a buffet rather than servers bringing the food to the tables.

I wish I had fun stories to tell you, but the most exciting thing that happened was that my gluten-free entree consisted of steamed vegetables and a steamed chicken breast (yes, it's that boring). Oh no, wait, I'm wrong. I won a basket of city stuff in the raffle. So ... I spent $1 to get a basket of stuff that I can get for free. A pretty good deal if you ask me.

This thing was in the basket too. I have nothing against patriotic knick knacks (other than the inherent kitchiness, of course), but I think this one's little beady eyes are a little creepy, no?

 

The other noteworthy thing about the evening is that my strapless bra kept shimmying down. It held up just enough to make it through the evening, but by the time I was home it had traveled half way down my stomach. Mmmmh, sexy! Although it could have been worse, the thing could have simply fallen off my boobs, down my dress, and around my ankles. Lucky for me, it did not.

Here I am in my $60 dress (Nordstrom Rack rocks!). I had my little camera and an inexpert photographer, so frankly I don't think this is a very flattering picture. Plus, since I stopped running, my body has gone to seed. So there it is. Whatever.

 

I do want to point out, hower, the cute shoes. You can't see them, but they have wedge heels. Both the dress and the shoes were Ivy finds. (For anyone tuning in late, Ivy is a friend and my personal shopping counsultant.)

Boobs and balls

[This part of the post begun on 4/7]

I will begin by saying that I’m writing this post on the Metrolink train from LA to Fullerton. Oh yeah, baby, public transportation. It bears mentioning because I’m never on public transportation, it’s just not particularly convenient in LA, at least not for my commute. But this evening Zebigboss has booked us a box at the Angels Stadium in Anaheim (baseball), and I want to go. I would have simply gone to the office this morning, but for my lovely mammogram scheduled for today at 1pm. Given the 7-9 month waiting time for these babies, I really wasn’t about to postpone it. If you are not familiar with the traffic patterns here, driving from LA (where I live) to Orange County in the evening is a huge pain, hence the Metrolink.

So today, yes, I had a mammogram. This also bears mentioning because it was my very first one. As the radiologist said, it’s not painful. It’s merely uncomfortable to the point of practically passing out. I have to say that hospitals have always made me woozy, and after having surgery on my hip, I tend to the anxious anywhere near them. It is therefore no surprise that I had to put my head between my knees, what, maybe 3 times during the procedure. Lame! Just when I finally got used to the needles, they mix it up by squishing my boobs. Who’d have known that it would give me such anxiety?

Anyway, it only took a few minutes, and it wasn’t that big a deal in retrospect. I think next time I won’t have as much trouble with it. The radiologist said I follow directions well, which she says is typical of folks who do yoga or do personal development work – we’re coachable, is what she means. This is significant only insofar as it makes the procedure go faster, and the radiologist gets the films she needs without having to do x-ray more than once. I guess, like everything else, what you resist persists.

Naturally, I asked the radiologist to take my picture! We took it with the gown on, this is a family show after all. Apparently this was the first such request in the years she’d been doing these. Last week I would have found this hard to believe, but given my recent moment of clarity regarding how ordinary I am (not), I guess I’m not all that surprised.

And now I’m on the train, heading to Orange County, where a colleague will pick me up and then we’ll drive to the stadium together. Meanwhile, I sit here and listen to the lady sitting across the isle from me with her 3 kids, who used the expression “open up a can of whoop-ass on you” for real, to one of her kids. Quickly followed by the whole bunch bursting into a chorus of “Five dollar foot-long,” which is not the latest Viagra ad, but an extremely annoying ad for Subway sandwiches.

[The rest of this post was written 4/8]

The Angels game was fun, but I have to say that I didn’t get into it as much as I do when I sit in the stands. I was going to say the cheap seats, but I’ve gone to a few ball games in Zebigboss’s season tickets, which are quite spectacular and not at all cheap. However, it was fun to hang out with my colleagues, and some of us got goofy.

Here’s Jamaar doing … well, I don’t really know what the heck he’s doing, but it’s damn funny.

And then Kathya and I tried a few cheers, including the wave. Not as effective at sporting events when the wave is inside a box where no one else can see us and/or join us, but we thought we were da bom, so whatever.

Celebrating LiberDee

Last night we celebrated Dee's 30th birthday for the second time. Or the 30th anniversary of her 30th birthday. Or her 20th for the third time. Or the... Ok, I'll shut up now.

This month Dee, my dear and fabulous friend, turns 60. Is it weird turning 60, Dee? Inquiring minds want to know. Perhaps you can be a guest blogger here, or you can have your own entry in your new blog, Santa Monica DeeVa!

It was mostly a vegan dinner (except for the ice cream I brought because the cake was not gluten-free), a pot luck. We had excellent food, curry rice, roasted vegetables, soy "meat"balls (I couldn't have those, either, but I was told they were deelish), and spring rolls with peanut sauce, hand wrapped by Dee's daughter, Nia, who came down from Pollock Pines, a mountain place northeast of Sacramento, where they have winter and everything. With snow. I'm not kidding.

Do they not look like mother and daughter? And they dressed the same, too, allegedly not on purpose.

We had the usual suspects gathered at Hadassa's house in the Hollywood Hills, including two dogs. One of them, Sophie, is a large and sappy German shepard that Hadassa picked up at the shelter, meaning to adopt a small dog. I know how it is. You firm up your intentions about the kind of pet you're going to adopt, no one will sway you. Then you show up, and they say to you, Oh I bet you'd like this dog over here. And then the dog puts her head down and looks at you with those big sweet dog eyes, licks your nose, and off you go, declaring you meant to get a large dog, actually. Sucker!

Given that Dee's charity of choice (no presents, please, but if you must, make a donation) is Pets of the Homeless, Sophie's story is perfect for the occasion. You know, I'm always moved by homeless people with animals. I mean, here they are, homeless, with nothing, and yet they take care of an animal. No matter how bad things get, human generosity is what will save us in the end. But I digress.

I brought some wine that I purchased (for a lot of money) last weekend at the Brown alumni wine tasting. The wine is expensive because it is grown organically and biosomethingorother - not just organically, but vines are planted when there's the right planet alignment and moon phase - and is made without sulfides, which apparently is a big deal. Anyone who knows anything about wine raises their eyebrows and says "Wow!" when I tell them that. I even had some, half a glass, and it didn't make me sick. So maybe I have a problem with sulfides, too. What better occasion for fancy wine than a dear friend's milestone birthday?

Of course, what's a birthday celebration without singing and candles?

I missed the first few seconds of the singing because this particular crowd, all they want to do is sign as loud as they can. This is Hollywood, after all. Check out the rest of the pictures here.

Pregnancy: the blog post!

Yesterday I was on what I have now dubbed my pregnancy jaunt. To be more specific, it was my jaunt, but not my pregnancy. I know, you're a little disappointed: how fun would it have been if I announced on this blog that I'm pregnant. Deirdre thinks we should open a business called Pregnancy Jaunt, where women end up knocked up. In a fun way. But I digress.

Actually, I went to Sacramento, to my friend Britvixen's baby shower. Britvixen and I met way back in the day when she was married to her first husband, and I was married to my first husband. She was an intern at the talent agency where I was an assistant; she had just come out to the US after marrying said first husband. I can't remember what either one of us really wanted to do in the entertainment industry, or how she ended up at that godforsaken agency, but I'm glad she did, because we've been friends every since. And we've become grown-ups together, really. I went to her wedding (to her current, and final, husband) a couple of years ago, up in the mountains of Sacramento, home of Guns N Lace, where you can purchase guns and lingerie in an authentic saloon setting, and where men with less teeth get into barfights on weekends and throw each other through plate glass windows.

The visit was a surprise, and fortunately J, the husband, managed not to blow it - he is the worst liar on the planet - he picked me up at the airport and we hung out and had Starbucks until Britvixen arrived at the shower. Then we pulled up next to her car, I rolled down my window, and I told her she needs to be more suspicious of strange women in her husband's car. It took her several seconds to register what was happening, then the squealing began. It was also really great that her mom had flown in from London for the weekend so she could attend the shower. I've known her mom for years and years, too, so it was great to catch up with her, too.

The shower was pretty much what you'd expect: food, mimosas, a few little kids (I think I was the only one who hasn't had children), baby shower games, and presents.

This particular present is for after the birth - as in, mom will be standing by, and as soon as the kid is out, she'll hand Britvixen a cocktail.

Britvixen is a girl after my own heart: she doesn't like anything about being pregnant, including having cleavage. She has as little patience for those women who do nothing but coo about how great it is to be pregnant as I do. She'll be a great mother, of course, she just won't be a ridiculous mother whose life is on hold until the kids leave home.

The games we played included a "name this baby" game, wherein I became obsessesed that one of the babies we had to identify was Sean Connery (as a baby, obviously). We also played a baby charade, where each of us had 30 seconds to have Britvixen guess what we were miming. I had diaper cream. Diaper cream, for heaven's sake. I can mime diaper, but cream?? I was bouncing around doing wiping motions with my hand behind my butt, but never got past diaper wipes (which someone else had already mimed). It was a glorious and dignified moment for me.

Bear was there, too.

After the shower, we had to stop somewhere to feed me because absolutely everything at the shower had flour in it. The brunch food was a series of bread puddings. The hostess is a very good cook, and would have happily made something gluten-free for me had I told her, but I was so busy keeping the visit a secret that I didn't think to tell her.

Next, it was time to go bra shoppping. Specifically, breast-feeding bras. So off we went to the maternity store, where Bear got a little ... pervy, is the only word to describe it. He thought that the little holes in the bra to breast feed were a funny place to peek though. I can't take him anywhere. And yes, there are pictures of Bear being naughty in the maternity store.

While we were at the maternity store, there was a couple there with a young child, and I think she was pregnant again. They were wondering around the store, and we paid no attention. Suddenly his phone starts to ring, and he picks up and starts talking - and I kid you not, the man was as gay as the day is long. We all looked at each other in astonishment because it was clear that if he was the father, someone is going to be very surprised. They walked out shortly thereafter, with him prattling on his phone and waving a gay hand around. I don't know who he thought he was kidding, but apparently the mother had no clue. The shop ladies were as amazed as we were.

As we were paying, the cashier asked Britvixen's mom if she wanted to donate $1 to premature research, and then she'd get a little bracelet in exchange. The girl kept going on about premature and prevention of premature, until I finally asked the question that begged to be asked: premature birth or premature ejaculation? Because I for one am affected by these things very differently. The cashier will be choosing her words more carefully in the future.

We had a breather at home after shpping, where a large mosquito met its end -- on Britvixen's very pregnant stomach. It probably was thinking, mmmh, I'm going to get me some fresh pregnant blood, and wham! Britvixen smacked it against her belly, and that was it. I of course took a picture of it. That's what I call multi-tasking.

Before leaving, Bear had his picture taken with our shower gift, Butt Paste:

Yes, that's Bear's butt. Like I said, I can't take the little monster anywhere.

Havoc having been wreaked, it was time to return to LA. The flight was on time, but the bumpiest I've ever been on. I would say that on a bumpy flight being able to look outside and see the wings flapping around and wondering how much bumping it takes to snap them, is not the best use of my intellectual curiosity. Much better to just enjoy the ride.

All the photos are here.

A visit to the Huntington Gardens and Lunar New Year

Let me begin by saying that yesterday's outings were great, but I probably should have avoided them, or at least the evening one. I lost my voice, and going out and about was not the smartest thing: I spent most of Sunday coughing up a storm.

On Saturday, my mom and I did Brown alumni stuff all day. First, we went to the Huntington Gardens in San Marino, CA, to see the Greene & Greene exhibit. But before the exhibit we stopped off at the tea house to have high tea. Well, I don't know where they learned high tea, but that was not high tea. Yes, they had little finger sandwiches and little scones, but I didn't see any clotted cream (there was some cream but it was sweet, which is just revolting). The tea was ok but certainly nothing I couldn't make at home. However, we did get to socialize a bit, and that was really the point of doing tea before the exhibit, so that was nice. Here I am with my mom and my friend Brooke. Brooke and I will both be traveling back to Brown in 2010 for our reunions. For me it'll be 20th, for her 25th. Brooke is one of the current co-presidents of the Brown Club of So Cal. She and Ilene took over from me, and Ilene is also class of '90 (like me), so we're all going together.

But I digress. To sum up, we had tea and chatted. Then, on to the exhibit.

The Greenes were extremely influential architects in California, and they did beautifully detailed work, working a lot with wood. The brochure says "The work of architects Charles Sumner Green (1868-1957) and Henry Mather Greene (1870-1954) is widely recognized as having established a new and enduring paradigm for the art of architecture in the United States. Like their contemporary, Frank Lloyd Wright, the fraternal team of Greene and Green considered architecture to be no less than a design language for life, imbuing their houses and furnishings with an expressive sensitivity for geography, climate, landscape, and lifestyle." Their houses were designed including the furniture, which would have a different theme in each room. The Gamble House, in Pasadena, is open to the public and you can see photos here to get a sense of the kind of the work that the Greenes did.

After the exhibit, we walked back to the parking lot via the Chinese Garden, the Japanese Garden, and the Cactus Garden. You can link to the entire set of photos here.

In the evening, we went to Monterey Park to a Chinese restaurant to celebrate the Lunar New Year. The restaurant is called Elite, and most of the people who work there don't speak English, or don't care to. The food was phenomenal, and I could eat most of it. My mom ended up sitting next to Ed, whose parents owned a restaurant while he was growing up, so she got some fish steaming essentials out of him.

At the end of dinner, there was a fun little raffle drawing. My mom got a very nice Japanese tea cup, and I got a totally crazy little wind-up toy that somehow I think totally suits me. It's called Sparklz and is made by Kikkerland. It says on the box that it's a collector's item, but I suspect they're just saying that.

Ant, the organizer, won a Hello Kitty goodie bag. He's going to give it to his 6-year-old sister. How covenient, that he suddenly has a 6-year-old sister who he's never mentioned before...

Anywho, during dinner I started coughing, which I tried to suppress as much as possible because of the food and other people, but when we left and most of the next day coughing up a lung. On the plus side, the worst is over. On the minus side, my mom and I had invited Willow and Adam over for dinner Sunday evening, and I had to cancel because I couldn't talk. And my friend Brendan took the Landmark Forum this weekend, and I couldn't talk to him, either.

I have to pee

Wherein a very normal work Christmas dinner turns into a hilarious interactive adventure with an excellent Cher impersonator.

Last night was our annual firm Christmas party. Every year it's something different, and usually there's some element of surprise, if at all possible. Our best one yet was the 3 day cruise to Ensenada, Mexico. We still talk about the karaoke, and specifically about one of our attorneys, Dan, who sang a rending country song about divorce mostly on one knee, and who was so awful that a guy sitting in front of him started banging his head against a wooden table. That one's pretty much impossible to beat, except maybe with a 7-day cruise to Alaska, but this year came pretty darn close.

We had dinner at the Mission Inn, in Riverside, CA. To our surprise, not only is Riverside Christmas-crazy (maybe holiday-crazy), but the Mission Inn is the center-piece of the madness. To say that it is lit up like a Christmas tree doesn't come close to describing it. It actually looks like Santa's toy shop threw up all over Riverside and the Mission Inn. Here I am with my mom in front of some downtown Riverside decorations.

Well, at least I don't have kankles. Here's the entrance to the Mission Inn, to give you an idea, here.

The lights were nice, but they had creepy animatronic holiday figurines all over the place (most of which, frankly, looked like creatures from The Lord of The Rings - seriously, people, just cos something's hairy and small doesn't make it a holiday character, ok?). I need a baseball bat.

By the way, if you want to see some pictures of The Mission Inn without the holiday madness, go here.

The evening began normally enough, with everyone hanging out at the bar in the courtyard. After 5 years with the firm, I know everyone pretty well, including the wives and husbands. The single people (not that many of us, and all women) usually bring friends or family members. I brought my mom, as this was a great opportunity to introduce her to everyone at the office without the usual rush of work. Most of my colleagues took the bus from the office, during which ride Greg served as bartender. By the time they arrived at the Mission Inn, most of them were feeling quite friendly and gushed about my brilliance to my mom. I don't know that I would use the word "brilliant," myself, but I'm sure my mom was very proud.

Everybody got dressed up for the party, including Harold, who showed up in his Soviet outfit. Harold is a die-hard Republican who is embarassed by President Bush and who is also incredibly impressed with Obama. In Harold's words, "He's doing it right." I'm with ya, Harold. Harold always makes fun of us UCLA law grads because, as he puts it, same letters as ACLU. We tease him that we'll get him a membership to the ACLU, and he says, sure, and I'll get you memberships to the NRA. Repulsive, but fair.

After dinner, the show began. We had a Cher impersonator, who was really really good. She looked just like Cher, and sounded just like Cher, and to be perfectly honest, she could even have been the real Cher, I wouldn't have known the difference. If you're a fan of Cher and you can tell the difference, by all means let me know. Who knows, maybe now that she's retired (is she??), she's having fun playing a Cher impersonator in Vegas and entertaining hyperactive lawyers. Anywho, she has a show in Vegas apparently, so how cool that she did this for us!

She sang a few songs, made a few jokes, and then the interactive part of the show began. And this, my friends, is where things got fun. She said she needed 2 women to help her with her next number. First she called Kim out. Kim is one of the partners, and my former law skills teacher, and an awesome trial lawyer, and in a rock band, and NOT SHY. Just as soon as Cher called Kim's name I got this sinking feeling she was going to call me next, and I was right. My mom says she knew right away that she was going to call me. Sigh. Moms always know, don't they?

So there we were, Kim and I, in front of almost 60 of our closest friends, to do a little number with Cher. She started by asking us a couple of basic questions, like if we're attorneys and how long we've been attorneys and where we're from. When she found out that I'm from Italy, she asked me if I could teach her to say something in Italian. I said, sure, I can teach you to say "I have to pee." I think she was expecting something like, good morning or how are you. Since I'd already taught Zebigboss and his wife how to say it, I didn't see a problem with Cher also learning. I think it's a pretty useful phrase, myself.

The number was Cher's Schoop Schoop Song (It's In His Kiss) - yeah, I know, weird title, but you know the song. Kim and I did the swim, the jerk, and some kind of 2-step that I couldn't do because the rubber soles of my shoes would not slide over the dance floor, so I did some other goofy step instead. Hey, when on stage, improvise. Needless to say, we were completely ridiculous, and therefore a huge crowd-pleaser. After all, it's like karaoke: if the amateurs are talented in any way, it ruins the fun for everyone else.

And here we are. I look practically demonic, and Kim is really focused. Fortunately, no one captured it on video, but I'm told we gave quite the performance. People say I'm crazy, but I'm sure I don't know what they mean by that.

But this was not the highlight of the evening, or why this Xmas party almost overshadowed the awesome, unbeatable cruise. The piece de resistance was the next part of the show, where Zebigboss got to get up on stage with Cher, and sing the chorus for I Got You Babe with her.

IN A SONNY MUSTACHE AND WIG! Oh yes. Aaahh.... life is good. Zebigboss was a very good sport - as he said, he's a terrible singer, I mean awful. But again, that's the hallmark of fabulousness. I think the fact that Zebigboss is generally a pretty low-key guy who doesn't like to attract a lot of attention (paying him a compliment is almost impossible), made this that much funnier for us.

My mom enjoyed the evening immensely, and really likes the people I work with (who are, after all, pretty danged awesome). She said she was almost going to try to get out of going with me, and she's glad she went. Of course, she doesn't realize that there is NO WAY that I would have let her stay home, but that's another story.

If you'd like to see all the pictures, please visit the set on my Flickr stream here.