So far the best part of my thirties has been making so many "Yes!" friends, the kind of friends who are up for any adventure, whether it's running 15 miles of snowy, hilly trails or going to a black tie party at some dead people's mansion, or both in the same day. Mansions are not really my thing. My house is only 1100 square feet and I think even that is way too big for what I need. But having occasions to buy new dresses and getting to snoop around other people's mansions are totally up my alley. Plus it's always fun to try something new. Even if it turns out to be weird or I don't really like it, at least I get a good story out of it. And any time I have good company, I'm pretty much guaranteed to have a good time, regardless of the activity. After Saturday's WTF trail race, Alison, Bob, Chris, Steven, Pete and I headed to Canandaigua for the Sonnenberg Gardens Christmas Gala Ball. The mansion was one of the summer homes of super rich banking dude Frederick Ferris Thompson and his wife, Mary Clark Thompson, who was a governor's daughter. Yes, summer home. You know, because why wouldn't you have a house for every season? Not that I visit many mansions, but those I have seen all kind of look the same. What is it with rich people and taxidermy? They sure do love their dead animal heads and bear skin rugs.
The mansion was all decorated for Christmas and it was neat to walk around looking in all the rooms. But we made the mistake of not getting in line right when they brought out the hors d'oeuvers because I swear we were only upstairs looking around for ten minutes, but when we got back downstairs all the food was already gone. Although for me it was no big loss since I don't think there were many vegetarian options, and I only go to parties for the dessert anyway. Sadly, the dessert was mediocre. Actually, the tiny blue sugar cookies were fantastic, but there were only like ten of those and they were gone quickly (I did snag two of them since I hadn't gotten any food). They had a lot more of these chocolate mousse tart-like things, but they weren't as good. Considering tickets to this shindig were $55 each, the food situation was a little disappointing. But we had a great night of laughing and dancing to the weird mix of music that switched from classical waltz type stuff to Call Me Maybe to All I Want For Christmas Is You to Pit Bull. At one point I even thought this party was going to turn into a game of Clue. Because when I went to the bathroom, there were definitely drops of blood on the floor. Okay, so it may have been drops of red wine. But the ladies who work at the mansion said it is haunted. So I think blood is a real possibility. And I'm going to guess it was either the ghost of Mary Clark Thompson or Colonel Mustard in the billiard room with the candlestick. 
Pete and I had gotten a room at the Inn on the Lake, as did Steven and Chris, so the six of us all went back there after the gala figuring we'd get some food at the hotel's restaurant. But apparently their kitchen closed at 9 and there was no room service either. So we headed across the street to MacGregors. Chris and I both ordered the Macho Nachos (but I got mine without meat or jalapenos) and it was basically a bottomless pit of nachos. Seriously, I think every time I ate one, two more nachos grew in its place.
I don't know if I'll ever figure out what I'm doing with my life. But if I'm spending my days running and smiling and my nights wearing an evening gown and eating a perpetual plate of carbs, and I get to share it all with fabulous friends and my favorite guy, I must be doing something right.
Here's to more occasions to get dirty, to wear dresses and to dance the night away.
Lyric of the moment: "But everybody's like Cristal, Maybach, diamonds on your timepiece, jet planes, islands, tigers on a gold leash. We don't care, we aren't caught up in your love affair. And we'll never be royals. It don't run in our blood. That kind of luxe just ain't for us. We crave a different kind of buzz..."
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