This was taken before we started drinking.Mike and I went to his work's holiday party, which they cleverly styled a "Masquerade", thus avoiding even the word "holiday". It was held at a fancy restaurant and hotel in a very swanky zip code, the type where the valets are pushy and the doormen enforce a dress code. (Imagine short, glittery skirts and plunging necklines. Most men were wearing suits and ties.) We had sitters (thanks Grandma and Grandpa) so we didn't worry about the kids at all.
We got to try various crazy foods like pureed and encapsulated olive essence, cotton candy with foie gras, and puffy pastry things that had shavings of meat and liquidifed cheese in them. The first thing I ate at the party was what looked like a tiny ice cream cone filled with caviar. Black caviar. It was my first taste of the delicacy (despite my time in Moscow) and I was not pleased. Later I tried a dwarf purple potato that somehow tasted exactly like the caviar. Yea.
We stayed for a waltz lesson on the ballroom dance floor and tried to meet people that Mike works with. We eventually found the dessert table, which was pretty good, although I think sprinkles are unnecessary on cupcakes, even the ones made from edible silver.
It was fun to do something so different and strange, and it was rather awesome not to have anyone wipe their nose on my shirt or pull my hair or try to get my attention by throwing things. We should have date nights more often.