Tips for a Successful Christmas Party: Army Style

Having a blast at my company's Christmas party in the photo booth on Friday night

Looking just as happy in the car after the Army party. Not because we were having fun. Because it was over.

A sign in roster as you enter the party doesn’t set the vibe “this is a fun, relaxed, enjoyable get together to celebrate the holiday”. It wasn’t a guest book. Don’t try to cover it up; we all knew what it was.

Don’t assign your guests blocks of time. Invitation should not read “Your hour is from 2-3pm”. You’ve got a massive house with plenty of room to accommodate everyone, and while we sure as H3LL didn’t want to stay even a whole hour, it would have been nice to not be kicked out when “our time was up”.

Speaking of invitations; e-vites are ok for, umh, like Girls Night Out or Super Bowl Parties, but not for your formal, brigade Christmas party. Tacky cheap A$$.

You may not want kids there, and hey, that’s ok, I wouldn’t either, but wording it this way: “No kids are allowed” is a little harsh. Especially when your freakin’ rugrats/devil spawn are running around screaming the whole time.

Dress blues (The Army version of a Tux)? Get serious. We had to get all dressed up for a stupid house party (where we could only stay 1 hour) in the middle of a Saturday afternoon? I wouldn’t show up in sweats, but formal wear was a little over the top.

Special note to the Commander’s Wife: Look, I’m face blind but even I don’t make my guests wear identification. You’re just lazy, bee-ach. With your scheduling, you shouldn’t have had more than half a dozen wives there at a time anyway. Instructing the men to “find the name tag that properly identifies your spouse” isn’t polite. On the plus side, at least we weren’t referred to as “dependants” for once.

Thank God for the after party. Casual dress, real food, lots of booze, music, beer pong and stick on mustaches. We did still use name tags, but we were more creative with things like “FUCK!NG Reindeer” or “Chief Elf”. No one was required to “properly identify their spouse” and you didn’t have to leave until you wanted to (which for us, was when I started throwing up in the yard).

These tips brought to you by a bitter Army Wife, who declines to properly identify herself at this time.

(Excuse the bitterness, a little bit of Grinch is emerging, but with the obligatory attendance to that so-called party in the past, my mood should lighten in no time!)

Be sure to check in tomorrow for the very first Lady Fromage GIVE AWAY!

D@MN it Feels Good to be a Gangsta

One night in December, after an evening of pizza, Wii and lots of drinking with our couple friends S & J (My best Non Sucky Army Wife friend), we met “Gangsta Gangst”, J’s alter ego.
We had a lot of laughs at his “gangsta name”, because J is not, in fact, a “gansta”, not even close. He wears sweaters and watches Food Network. LT Fromage also wears sweaters and we're also Food Network junkies, so the 4 of us can discuss the Iron Chefs for hours. It’s no surprise that we’ve become such good friends. Try as we might, none of us are quite gangtas, though.

I began to feel jealous, if fellow sweater-wearing, Food Networking-watching, early-bedtimer , J could have a Gangsta name, why couldn’t I? LT Fromage said he would work on it.
A few days later, driving home from a Monday night date (We try to get some good Margaritas….er, I mean Mexican food, on Mondays), it came to him. “I’ve got it!” he said, “Lady Fromage.” Of course!

I love, LOVE, loooovvvveeeee cheese. LT Fromage claims that if I was an animal, I would be a mouse. (Although a good friend once suggested badger… Aw, that’s mean. Oh, and then those boys MOO’d at me, so maybe a cow, also... But I digress).

When LT Fromage is away, most of my suppers consist of an array of cheeses (I always keep a minimum 6 selections stocked in the fridge at all times), jellies and jams, crackers and breads. Pair that with a bottle, er, glass of wine and I’m in heaven. Our older cat, Garrett also loves cheese, so when LT Fromage is not home, Gare and I can be found indulging on delectable dairy products together while we watch trashy MTV reality shows. (LT Fromage does not delight in cheese to the extent that I do; he prefers meals that are slightly more… diverse and substantial. He also doesn’t enjoy trashy MTV specials. His loss)

On a recent drive home from St. Louis LT Fromage took me to The Cheese Store. This is exactly what it sounds like. That is, Heaven.

I limited myself to 5 cheeses; however I sampled each and every one in the store (some more than once) My final purchases:

*Havarti with Dill (LT Fromage's favorite)
*White Cheddar with Onion and Garlic
*Cajun Cheddar Curds
*Smoked Mozzarella Curds
*White and Orange Cheddar Curds

Other favorites:

*Goat cheese. Plain ol’ is my favorite, but it’s also delicious with herbs and other add-ins.
*Gorgonzola. I make a fab-u-lous sauce to go over steak (or Portabella mushrooms, for me), and I always buy an extra tub so I can snack on the tasty chunks while I cook.
*White Queso. Pretty dee-lish, when you get it at an authentic Mexican restaurant!
*Brie. I even named a pet rat this, once. If ever you have an opportunity to eat baked brie, try it! I promise you’ll eat every last bite!
*Swiss. One word, Fondue.
*Smoked Gouda. O.M.G…. Oh, yes, yes yes!
I’m also a sucker for- this is embarrassing – Velveeta. Sorry, I can’t help it. Heat it up with a can of Rotell, you’ll love it too.

And there you have it. The backstory of my cheesy name. Now you know, and knowing is all the power (*wink *wink, LT Fromage!).

It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere

Just when you thought I couldn’t get any more redneck, I brought home 2 more rats Nina (isn’t she cute sitting on LT Fromage’s hand?) and Ruger. Yes, the latter is defiantly named after my gun. H3LL yeah. Our rodent population is now at 5.

Ruger is so tiny (can you tell?) she’s not actually weaned yet, so I’m feeding her bits of soft bread soaked in condensed milk every few hours. She’s even coming to work with me (take your rodent-daughter-to-work day?) so I can keep her fed and hydrated. Of course, she hangs out in a travel cage nestled into one of those reusable grocery bags, because I’m not sure my coworkers would be stoked to see a rat chillin’ on the reception desk….

While I’m probably in the running for Rat Mom of the Year, my employer isn’t so happy with me because I’ve had quite a few doctors’ appointments recently (You thought it was due to the rat, didn’t you?).

Now, I’m not sure if this is fair, but I’m told my job “will no longer be protected” if I keep seeing the doctor. Uhm, this kind of irks me because I’ve still got a positive balance of paid hours and I’m legitimately at the doctor for something that needs to be addressed like, now. Nothing like getting punished for taking care of one’s self, right? Eff. I’ll be visiting HR later, armed with a note from one of my doctors. Hopefully I don’t walk out with a pink slip.

So, please forgive my lack of posts on my blog and comments on yours. I’m busy trying to keep my job, juggle my multitude of visits to the hospital and keep the tummy of a little rat full. All while LT Fromage is gone again, of course.

It’s 11:30 on a Monday morning; is it too early for a bottle, er, I mean glass, of wine?