always stuff your handbags full of toiletries

Wearing a white dress to a charity ball was always going to be a stupid idea.  You know, it wasn’t floor length or anything so it’s not like I picked up a whole lot of grime from the floor (I looked like I should be at the races 'cos I was wearing a knee length white dress, but stuff ‘em, I didn’t have a ball gown and shopping for that crap when you have hams for arms is not conducive to good mental health).  I managed to avoid major stains but I spent all night sweating the effing dress but yet still choosing to drink red wine, eat dishes with red jus etc.  There was a HUGE other potential stain issue – my body has been fairly reliable about Wednesday midday once every 28 days for a long time.  So I didn’t think to prepare myself on Tuesday night, when selecting the limited number of items to go in my clutch (cellphone, keys, lippy, blah blah).  That wee danger had me running to the lavs to spin around in front of the full length mirror about once every half hour and, you know, *improvise* with the resources to hand.  I came home unblemished but it was a very stressful evening, I must say.  I am now in favour of installing emergency tampons next to every emergency fire alarm just in case.  It’s a situation in which no woman should ever have to find herself. 

 

So, yes, charity ball.  I’ve never been part of a silent auction before; though I think it was actually more of a whisper-y auction as the top bids on each item were being projected onto a screen for all to read, which made me properly competitive.  I was all “who, ME?” and fluttery when I realised I’d won the wine glasses and that the money was going to the children (somebody has to think of the children, you know).  I will no doubt feel smug every time I slurp out of one of my winning glasses. 

 

Despite all the thinking of the children which was good, I did find the whole set-up a little unsettling.  Having recently budgeted a wedding, I started calculating the cost of the ball itself and comparing that with the money raised on the night, fairly unfavourably.  Even adding in the price of the table to the charity profit calculation, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit like the ball involved an unnecessary amount of expenditure.  I could be totally wrong; the venue might have donated its services, or possibly the caterers etc – in fact, I really hope that’s the case.  I just found it a little distasteful that in order to get me to open my wallet, it was necessary to wine and dine me in such splendour.  Obviously, there is an incredibly layered discussion to be had here and I am basically only skimming the surface with some half-baked thinking, but there it is.  And you’re right, I attended and ate and drank and donated, which I might not have otherwise done (being honest about it). 

 

In other slightly related news, this round of Christmas palaver is getting obscene.  I am out attending some event every night this week which is not a brag, it’s a hate situation.  I am getting pretty sick of small talk and I’m hopeless at working a room.  Other people are just so…intimidating, I think.  To be fair, some of the events this week are personal and not schmoozy but my friends will likely not be experiencing the best of my sparkling wit and natural vivacity , as I’m fresh out of interesting anecdotes and natural smiles.  What, you’ve noticed?!