Know When to Walk Away, Know When to Run

We had our company holiday party last night. I should say, yesterday afternoon. It started at 4 p.m., which gives you an idea why I like working for a company that promotes day drinking.

It was actually a very nice affair, and the company is very generous, so there aren't any trite comments on my part. The only thing is that there was a casino night theme—lots of gambling.

I am the world's worst gambler. I just am. I understand the theory, and I have a very good poker face; I'm just not very lucky when it comes to that sort of stuff. You find out who your friends are—people whom I never even met were lending me money to stay in the game. I still ended up busted broke, but I did enjoy a very nice roast beast dinner and made the best use of my drink tickets.

#1 Laura cleaned house and actually refused the prize she was due—she won an iPod last year and has been bequeathed with gifts lately, so she made the decision to spread the love around. She is Karma's darling.

The only down side is that it was slightly awkward because the older, married gentleman whom I have a massive crush on was there. Looking very handsome and dapper. And married. And handsome. And married. But, still, very handsome.

We exchanged pleasantries, and I kept trying to toss my hair. I don't think it worked. I went home alone. Just as well. He's married. But very, very handsome.

So, just to make sure my luck wasn't saving itself like a virgin bride, I bought a Maryland lottery ticket on my way home. Home for the Holidays, it was called. One of the $5 jobbies. I lost. I totally lost.

In Ohio, even the losing tickets offer a chance to send them in for a raffle sort of thing called Cash Explosion! (Their exclamation point, not mine.) Not Maryland, because it is the place of sour luck and broken dreams. And really, really high taxes.

I was so bogged down and stressed out today (not on strike, Matty) that I automatically came home, walked Wonder Dog Bean, and headed to the gym before I even had a chance to talk myself out of it. I've been doing pretty well, kids, with the whole working out thing. It's good for me. It's also pleasant because a very nice guy I work with also goes to my gym. His name is Michael. He's very tall and very nice. Not married. But very handsome.

So, I turned on the elliptical machine and I ran for everything I was worth, which ended up being about 3.5 miles and 968 calories. Go me.

It's Cohen's birthday today. I decided earlier to walk away, but I haven't done a very good job of telling him that. Oh, that hurts my heart. He shouldn't die a virgin.

In the Comments section, tell me about your holiday party or how you like to work out. Whoever gives me the story to which I can relate the most wins and gets to hang out with #1Laura because some of her good luck might rub off on you.

Speaking of rubbing off on you, here are some photos from Megan Jane's Birthday on Ice celebration.

"Yes, I wax my chest hair! What of it?" asks Sean P.K. (see sidebar Who In the Hell is She Talking About? for details) "It's fiercely sexy," says The Lovely Ms. Taylor.

Oooh! It's a double shot of The Lovely Ms. Taylor!

Hey 123Valerie! It's not on purpose that all of my photos are kind of vague. My hair and my breasts really are my best features. Along with my stellar personality, of course.

Ice skating is all fuzzy and fun! I lurve it!

Three Hot Girls at the End of a Night. Megan Jane and Taylor seem like they "Gotta Dance!" Me, of the Pointy Chin, well, I'm just happy to be upright.

Thanks, Candy Sandwich, for the photography, as always!