The Fete Before the Storm

Despite the threat of some scary snowy wintry weather, a large majority of staff came into the office today. The place was positively humming when I walked in this morning after a rather uneventful train ride in from Manhattan. My desk was covered with festively festooned bottles of wine and boxes of chocolate and other goodies. In the distance, I could hear the Queen Bea heralding the arrival of the vat of her potent egg nog. God, I do love the holiday party day in the office.

I did have some work to do before I imbibed the festivities. The financial flash report was due. I had some important e-mails I had to respond to. I needed to review February ad page projections with the publishers. And I had to meet with the production director on further folio reduction on some under performing issues.

I finished my financial flash projections. I responded to the e-mails. I started to meet with the publishers when The Queen Bee rushed in and forced a cup of her egg nog on me. "Drink this," she said. I sipped it. I still had work to do, but oh my, the first sip was beyond fantastic. I gently sipped while I met with the remaining publishers. Hey, is it warm in here? My office started to feel very warm (despite the fact the heat wasn't on). Between the effect of the egg nog and my usual hot flashes, I actually turned the air conditioner on in my office. As people came in to meet with me, they would visibly recoil with the cold. I felt fine, but sympathetically, I keep a fuzzy Burberry blanket in my office that I offer to my visitors and so I did (often) today.

After those meetings, I started to wind down. The party was to commence at 11 am; at 11:30,The Fisherman dragged me downstairs to the art department where the party was in full swing. Holiday music was playing, there was a bounty of food, the bar was stocked with wine and beer and dontcha know, the snow, as if on cue, began to fall outside. It was a rather picturesque scene.

We gave away the prizes to the scavenger hunt. I gave a brief speech thanking everyone for their incredible efforts in a tough year and bade them a well deserved holiday vakay. Someone threw a shoe at the huge inflatable snowman, channeling the Iraqi reporter/President Bush scene from earlier in the week. A few errant shoes followed. I believe one person actually tackled the snowman, although he did it in humor and not in drunkenness, The room was decidedly temperate. The snow storm outside gained momentum and slowly, people began to regress.

A small group of us began to clean up. The space clean, I retreated to my office. It was 2:00 pm. In my office, I set up a small and informal margarita bar: Jose Cuervo, triple sec, limes and ice mixed in a large coffee carafe. I started to respond to e-mail when my financial dynamic duo appeared. I poured them a drink and, OK, myself as well. We shot the shit. A few stragglers wandered in, had a quick snort and were off. By 3:00 pm. the only people left in the office was me, The Fisherman and The Man in Plaid. All around us was a swirling snow storm, at this point many inches deep. My office has a wall of windows on two sides and I had the sensation of being in a reverse snow-globe. It was beyond fantastic.

The scene outside was bucolic and offered a winter scene I wish I viewed from my window at home everyday. The 19th century cemetery that flanks the building was snow covered. Nary a footprint was detected within the path of the parking lot. The bare, black branches of the trees were outlined in powdery snow. It was incredibly beautiful.

At 3:30, The Man in Plaid offered to drive me to the train station. I love being out in the snow and had wanted to walk to the train through this wintry wonderland, but he was most insistent so I acquiesced. We packed up and headed to the parking lot. I whopped and skipped and kicked up my heels in the snow. Trust me, I was not inebriated--I simply felt joyous in this wintry wonderland. Once I completed my personal revelry, The Man in Plaid and The Fisherman stared at me with deadpan surprise on their faces. Finally The Man in Plaid said, "I'd like to let you continue to frolic, but you have a train to make." Good man. I probably should head home.

I made my train and soon after, arrived in Harlem. I caught a cab and we fishtailed several intersections crosstown before I arrived home. It was not a great night for driving. The roads were slushy and slick and the pristine winterscapes enjoyed in Connecticut were not the same in Manhattan. In Manhattan, the snow was dark with exhaust fumes and balled up with foot traffic and shoveling. I love this city but it simply does not provide the Currier & Ives worthy snowscapes that make me child-giddy.

I do wish it could have been a fully realized party. No matter. The spirit was definitely and fully there.