Christine the Curmudgeon

…to I don’t know where, but anywhere but here.  maybe one of those extended dominican republic vacations would be nice.  Don’t they have baseball down there in the winter?  Now, that is something I can get into!

Mr. Curmudgeon is being a jerk.  Apparently, his boss is being an ass, and somehow, it’s my fault.

Also, it is looking like his company’s  holiday party, which is held down in Rhode Island, as usual, will be a command performance this year.  The company’s main office is down there, that’s why the parties are always there.

I do NOT want to go, but if he goes, I have to, because it looks good for Mr. C to have his *arm candy*.  Being arm candy means that I will have to buy some fancy-schmancy outfit that I do not want to wear, and will probably make me look like an overstuffed sausage.  I will weep when I think of how much good beer could have been bought with that money.

And then I will have to socialize with the bimbo arm candy trophy wives of Mr. C’s co-workers.  I’d rather eat glass and root for the New York Y*****s than have to deal with this bimbosity.  The one time we went to one of these events, back in 2004, these women were excruciatingly boring, all they talked about were their kids.  When I said I didn’t have any kids, they proceeded to ignore me.

Until I drifted over to where the men were, they were talking about the Red Sox World Series win.  Now that is something I could get into…too bad that the bimbo trophy wives saw me talking to their men, and started giving me the hairy eyeball.  Sheesh, calm down, I do NOT want to steal your men!

I hate events like this.  I really hope we can get out of it, without risking Mr. C’s job!

But I can always still run away!  Right?

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