Last night was the Bravo Christmas party. I wish that I could report this morning that there was some sort of mayhem involving opium, a candy cane, and Sir Tim Gunn, but it was all pretty legit and nice.
There was a big raffle with prizes aplenty. Our boss Lauren lerves a raffle, and we have been conditioned to be very excited about them, too. Why is it so fun to pick names out of a bowl and give prizes? It just IS, people. Try it. There was a ton of champagne and everybody got a 2008 edition of Zagat's NYC restaurant guide. Who doesn't need that, seriously?
It was a nice party, but can we all agree that when it comes right down to it, work Christmas parties are always a little weird? A little stilted? Once at a CBS Morning Show Christmas party a colleague stumbled over in her (always) too high heels and said "I just want you to know I don't hate you because you're gay."
"Thank you," I said. She meant it as a compliment. So that was sweet of her to say so. I had another year where my pre-Bravo boss became furious at me (for something I don't remember) as we were walking out the door together to attend the party. Furious. It was not a fun party that year. I had another pre-Bravo boss who was so drunk by the very end of the night that I had to become his nursemaid. Joy to the world!