'tis the season...to party.

with the holiday season, comes many things.

time with family, Christmas dinner, midnight service at church, friends coming home, Santa, Christmas music, bowl games (go Pack!), decorating the tree, bows and wrapping paper, Christmas cards, shopping for (and getting!) the perfect gift, having violent thoughts towards strangers over parking spots, mistletoe (ooh la la), stockings, twinkle lights all over random parts of your house, and...parties!!!

there is a whole subset of categories for the Christmas party. and i love all of them. for the most part.

1) the fancy party.



raleigh tannebaum ball. artspace. 2011.

we're at that age where we go to "balls". we miss our sorority/fraternity's semi-formal, so we do this instead. we get dressed up and buy a ticket to drink ourselves silly in the name of charity.  it's Christmas. that's just what you're supposed to do, right?
i love this party. i love seeing my husband and friends dress up and dance. i love the fact that our hardcore partying is helping a charitable organization. i have nothing bad to say about this party. 

raleigh tannebaum ball. artspace. 2011.



 


 



raleigh tannebaum ball. artspace. 2011.

 

raleigh tannebaum ball. artspace. 2011.

 

2) the tacky sweater party.

this party goes two ways. you love it or you hate it. and you guessed correctly...i love it. we have been lucky enough to have friends host a party of this nature for the past four or five years. and i have been lucky enough to have a husband willing to put on the tackiest thing i can find on ebay (and our sweaters always match, which means he's been in a ladies sweater for quite a few parties now...love you, honey!)

i'm not sure how this party started, or if the trend will ever die...but, as long as there's beer pong in the garage and a total disregard for your appearance...i hope this party sticks around for a long time.
  

i was too concerned with the eggnog to take any pictures at this year's tacky
sweater party, but i found these gems from past parties.

3) the "drop-in" house party.

i appreciate these parties. these parties are thrown by people who understand that in December you may have four parties to go to on a given night. they don't ask you to commit, they just extend the invitation.

the smart ones will lure you to stay with good food, even better booze and kickass party favors. we have a lot of smart friends.

notice the Christmas flare they gave us as party favors.
and yes, Petty is wearing a Rudolph yamaka.

4) the "high school buddies are back in town" party.

this can happen anywhere. a now-out-of-town friend's parent's basement. a bar in your old neighborhood. your "successful" friend's high rise condo (which you spend the whole time talking shit about how there is no way they can afford it). or the house in the suburbs of your married friends (hey, at least there's a porch you can smoke hang out on and probably a very lovely guest room for you to crash in). this party is in no way mandatory. but, be glad you are still in the loop. you'll be sorry when you're not invited. and know when you stopped getting invited, it means they don't like your new baby or you've peed on one too many of their couches. both brutal realities.


me and my best friend since 4th grade (also a bridesmaid, who now lives in san fran),
taken by one of our idiot high school friends who can't operate a flash.
dec. 23rd, 2009 at raleigh times.

 5) the office party.

i work in a small office. i realized minutes after i started this blog that if i ever wanted to talk about my office, i should have created my blog under one of those kitchy anonymous blogging nicknames. i am anything but anonymous.

i will say only this: if you are blessed with that of an office Christmas party, don't be the drunk one. be the one the drunk people tell shit to.

don't let this be you.

6) the party for you

Christmas is craaaaaaazy. family, friends, decorating, shopping, weirdos creating traffic at your favorite lunch spot (i'm talking to you, Cameron Village). it's overwhelming. do something for yourself. give yourself a present. even if it's just a bottle of vodka or a super venti mocha peppermint latte cappachino extra frappe skim hold the extra frappe. whatever tickles your mistletoe and gives you a moment of peace.



Christmas at the Angus Barn. just for us.





i didn't learn about this many wine
glasses in 7th grade cotillion.



dinner in the kitchen at the Angus Barn?
'tis the season to be ballers.

  

merry christmas. happy holidays. happy new year. spread love. give cheer.

love & rockets,
sarah

 



blog blog blog

shit. i've decided to blog.

i'm not sure how big a commitment this is going to be, or if i'll even follow through. but, this way, at least it appears that i am typing furiously while pretending to work, instead of creepily gazing at some friend of a friend's facebook photo album for thirty minutes.

why "glory days"? because, even though it may totally contradict the saying, i feel like i am in my glory days right now.

granted, ten years ago, i was living at the beach, ten (read: at least fifteen) pounds thinner, without a care in the world. just an idiot girl with an awesome tan. now, the bills, the job, the responsibilities, it's all a little overwhelming. but, it's mine...and i get to share it with a guy whose face i really like.

our first dance

i just married the love of my life, we live in a small(ish), but perfectly located, townhouse, and are just starting out on a crazy journey together. we cook dinner, we take trips, we laugh, we have kickass families, we pay the bills, we have amazing friends, we walk the dog, we still get random wedding gifts every so often, we drink wine, we call eachother twelve times a day just to say hi, we dance, we fight over the remote, we grocery shop, we spend lazy Sunday's on the couch with a pizza and we just put up our first Christmas tree as Mr. and Mrs.

we laugh

these are my glory days. and i'm a hundred percent sure, the best is yet to come.

happily ever after begins

 i can't promise i won't share too much. or, at times, make you uncomfortable. but, that's what blogs are for, right? any asshole can write about whatever they want. and this asshole is starting now.

love & rockets,
sarah