Domestic Divas Know How to Throw a Party (Duh)

On Friday night around 5 p.m., two co-worker friends and I left the office and headed over to Skylight Studios for the holiday party. We were a bit nervous, because even though we'd been working at Martha Stewart since June, we were the dreaded FREELANCERS. Being a freelancer is kind of like being a foster child; you never know how long you're going to have a home, and at any time, your "family" can say, "Sorry, kid, we can't afford you anymore, there's no room for you, time to move on, shoo, shoo."

Being freelancers, we weren't exactly given our own invitations, and not really sure if we were technically *crashing* the ball, or just showing up to a ball we were sorta invited to. Thankfully, no one questioned us, and the whole thing was rather impressive, more like a wedding reception than an office party.

Note the fabulous ice sculpture above (an elk? an antelope, maybe?) -- I never knew I loved ice sculpture until I saw this guy (although I do have a penchant for cute animals in any form). Employees decorated stockings at the aptly named Stocking Decorating tables and movie screens showed bits of Frosty the Snowman. There were countless photogs to document the fact that my silk dress was slightly wrinkled and sported a stain and, well, I'm sure I could have used some lip gloss, but I digress! My freelance friends and I grabbed drinks, mingled with full-timers, and watched the Beyond Wasted folk do their duty on the dance floor. A., this includes you, already hungover, doing The Robot on the sidelines.

Related: Three weeks ago, I spent about 30 excruciating hours fact-checking a book about Bravo's Top Chef, which I had never watched until then. Although I typically enjoy fact-checking (I know, I'm a dork), for some reason this book was kicking my ass. I diligently finished and then swore (jokingly!) to friends that if I ever saw a contestant from Top Chef in person, I'd punch him in the face. Harsh! I know, but I was just tired and frustrated, so forgive me.

Anyhow, point of the story. Harold from Top Chef, season one, was one of the chefs at the Martha party. I eyed him, with that big brown shaved head, noting the juicy pieces of salmon his servers were dishing out. And, I'm happy to report, that not only did I not threaten him (go, me! I'm a nice girl after all!), but I sampled the amazingly delicious and sweet salmon (it was sort of rich and sugary, "unexpected," as they say on the show), and he's clearly a super-talented guy who doesn't deserve any ill-will. Even if the book about him and his stupid Top Chef friends did nearly kill me...