OK, FINE.

You know, I have this blog, and it’s MINE and I thought that meant I got to control the content and timing, etc.  Turns out, YOU all think you’re the boss of me!  So, FINE, I’ll write about the damn event!  ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!  God.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought to how to blog about the event.  There are any number of ways to look at everything that happened.  I decided to hold off so that I didn’t go posting a knee jerk reaction that I might later regret writing.  Do you see that?  That’s what we call maturity, folks. 

It was good and it was disappointing.  It was good because we had a blast.  I decided when I woke up Wednesday morning that I had done everything within my power to promote the success of that event.  So, no matter how it turned out, I was going to have a good time.

The reality of the situation is that my expectations were not met.  I may have set my expectations too high going into it, but even now, knowing what I know, I think we could have reasonably accomplished our goals with relatively minor participation from a few more people.  That makes it frustrating to deal with.  It also makes me realize that I can’t control other people.  I need to learn to take pride in MY role instead of settling into the disappointment of others.

Despite any number of potential setbacks, I accomplished my goal of having a good time.  While I was at it, we raised some money for the kids.  So, big picture, how can I complain?  At the end of the day, something that I spent my time on raised several thousand dollars for two charities that I feel very personally connected to.  That is good news.

I also had the pleasure of meeting A LOT of new people in the process of planning the event.  It makes me a little dizzy just thinking about all of the follow up appointments I need to make to personally thank complete strangers who came through with favors and donations for no other reason than it was a good cause and I had the balls to ask for their help.  My faith in humanity has been justified again, and that’s never bad.

Like I’ve mentioned, I also learned quite a bit about my friends.  I pride myself on being the kind of person my friends can count on.  I, accordingly, expect my friends to be the kind of people I can count on.  An event like this lets you know which of your friends live up to that expecation. . . and that information, to me, is good to have.

There was the little misunderstanding which led to my feelings being hurt and me being grouchy for a couple of days.  It’s been cleared up.  We’re cool.  Yay.  Though. . . he certainly wasn’t as impressed with all of my effort to be gorgeous as every other man in the place and that is a little irritating.  I hate when I go to all that trouble and deal with all of the creeps that find it necessary to repeatedly tell me how “incredibly fucking sexy” I am. . . and then the only guy in the place that I could give two shits about doesn’t bat an eyelash.  *sigh* 

I know all you really want is photos. . .so here you go. . .

  And we hadn’t had a single drink yet. . .

  No, still not drinking yet. . .

  Before my make-up fell off. . . also, interesting to note, this is the first guy in Austin who ever fell in love with me.  Too bad he’s married because I was also in love with him for a little bit. 

  Naturally, a photo with Bob.

  Charity reps & emcee.

  Charity reps, us.

  The Santi!  Happy, Mom?

  Emma (no, she’s not taller than me).

  My favorites (and the CASA lady).

  This is where the trouble starts. . .

  Obligatory photo with Mr. Bob.

  Disaster averted, Bob wins football.

  More trouble. . .

  Evidence that I’ve had too much to drink.

  If this guy would just dance and not speak ever, he would be my favorite.  If I could find a way to make money dancing with him, I would gladly do so every day.  If I could find money to pay him to dance with me, I would gladly do so every day.  It’s like floating on air, that’s how well he dances.  *chills*  Thank God I utilized the boob tape in anticipation of this very scenario. 

  This is our new President.  He doesn’t dance anywhere as well as our former President, but look at his crazy eyes.  I’m certainly not going to tell him that.