Now that it’s all over, it’s safe and acceptable to speak of it all. To look back in hindsight and hopefully laugh and revisit the gossip that inevitably comes out of the standard and annual, office Holiday party.

There’s always trepidation and whining but the possibilities of what may come from a night out of the office and with an open bar are truly endless. And while I probably seem like quite the partier there is nothing that terrifies me more than being completely rocked and puking at my office Holiday party, nay any party or event that involves drinking and being in the presence of those that control my health insurance. Of course I’m all for open bars, who isn’t, but there’s a fine line between enjoying libations and sharing laughs over Joe in accounting and throwing up crabcakes on your boss’ shoes. It’s a line that I would really just not like to cross.

What amazes me though is the number of people in this little age bracket o’ mine, who so eagerly cross that line. Not only does it ensure a gnarly hangover in the morning but the embarrassment…oh, the embarrassment…that instills in me a fear like no other. People often throw out the “oh you’re young” excuse, but at some point that becomes “oh, you should think about updating your resume after your slurring of Jay Z’s ‘Big Pimpin’ during karaoke”.

I’m possibly being overly cautious and on some sort of high horse for sobriety, but there’s something about watching someone puke all over a bar minutes after the head honcho departs, that keeps me up on high, and grateful that my three glasses of wine won’t end up on the restaurant floor.

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BlogHer CE, Heather B also blogs (and whines) at No Pasa Nada