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You are here: Home / Holly Daze / Chocolate And Champagne Led To The Most Embarrassing Holiday Party Of My Life

Chocolate And Champagne Led To The Most Embarrassing Holiday Party Of My Life

September 28, 2015 By Christine 6 Comments

Let’s face it:  we all know by now that I like to have a good time. I might have even paid my college roommates large quantities of money to keep their traps shut about our escapades and I thank GAWD every day that Facebook didn’t exist when I was a coed. Frankly, between you and me, I pray that the photos of my fortieth birthday party never see the light of day, thankyouverymuch.

But.

When I need to, when I absolutely must, I can pull myself together and I can make Martha Stewart look like a hot mess. No joke. If you need a gal to throw a giant, fancy, knock it out of the park party that will make the guest swoon, I’m just the Pinterest obsessed, Martha shaming woman for the job.

Such was the case a few years ago when I agreed to host Hubby’s annual office Christmas party in our home. Invite forty people to a catered, white glove service, top shelf liquor shindig at the busiest time of year all with two toddlers underfoot? No problemo, bitchachos.

Bring it, I said.

And I done brang it, folks.

Starting in August, I booked a caterer and not just *any* caterer, mind you. The best, the nicest, the creme de la creme of caterers who would help me orchestrate a taste symphony that would make my guests give me a standing ovation.

September found me pouring over menu minutiae and guest list details that would rival a White House State Dinner.

October was a blur of linen purchases, guest favor decisions and calculating exactly how much champagne we’d need to bring in for this fancy foray of fine dining (more on the champagne in a bit….ahem).

November found my home impeccably decorated, complete with my Christmas presents purchased, wrapped in coordinated paper and under the tree (I said SUCK IT, Martha).

Finally, after months of meticulous planning, the big day arrived. On that blustery first Saturday in December, I. Was. READY.

It was GAME ON, bitchachos.  

Coach Keeper had a game plan and every play was meticulously crafted. My team was assembled, my water boy, er, Hubby, knew his role and I could hear the crowd cheering in my ears. I was going to WIN at fancy office Christmas parties, I tell you.

Precisely fifteen minutes before our guests arrived and after I had squeezed myself into my new party dress, I descended upon our first floor Christmas wonderland. Lights twinkled, the fireplace crackled, the ice in the champagne bucket shifted.  The chef (yes, we had a CHEF, yo). I told you I don’t mess around) was putting the finishing touches on the carving station.  The house smelled heavenly with just the right mix of prime rib, Yankee Candle “Home For The Holidays” and pine wafting through the air.

It was magnificent.

My eyes scanned the food:  the crudite, the carving station, the waitress adding garnish to the passed hors de oeuvres. And, of course, the piece de resistance: a chocolate fountain, resplendent with gorgeous waves of creamy chocolate cascading into a lovely sterling silver bowl.

Pinkies up, bitchachos: this party was real classy like.

As I stood in my strapless taffeta party dress, hair perfectly coiffed and make up expertly applied, the head waiter approached me with what he called “The Hostess Cocktail.” He told me that he always presented the hostess with champagne to celebrate a job well done prior to the start of a party. I gratefully accepted the champagne and drank that sucker with gusto. Because nerves, obvi.

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention now that I consumed that huge glass of champagne on a twelve hours empty stomach as I’d forgotten to eat ALL DAY LONG while preparing for this Christmas extravaganza. I should also probably mention that champagne, on a good day and a full stomach, makes me instantaneously drunk.

Empty stomach.

Champagne.

Christmas party with 40 of Hubby’s employees.

You can see where this is going, ahem. I blame the waiter and his stupid Hostess Cocktail for what happened next.

True to form, the champagne worked it’s magic and I was accidentally and instantaneously drunk about ten minutes into our fancy party. Hubby’s colleagues were greeted by a flushed, fast talking, very friendly hostess in a red dress who may or may not have been slurring her words.

And that was only 730, people.

From what I’m told, the party was lovely, well, save for the gal in the mulberry colored dress acting a drunk fool. I’m told I was the life of the party and, my belief in a benevolent God is strengthened by the saving grace that I remember NOTHING from that evening. It’s better that way, from what I hear.

My complete and total humiliation came to a frenzied crescendo when, apparently, I decided I wanted to sample the chocolate fountain.

WITH. MY. FACE.

Yes. OOOOOOOH, Sweet Baby Jesus in a cute manger bed, yes, I put my face IN the chocolate fountain at our fancy party.  And not just my nose, people. It was an all in, full chocolaty facial coating.

What was left of my pride died a slow, painful death that evening (so I hear) and the shame was heavy as I stumbled into the wreckage that was our kitchen the next morning. Having no recollection of the evening’s events, my complete and total humiliation was sealed as Hubby wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. “People I work with” and “You’re the boss’ wife for God’s sakes” and “YOUR FACE WAS IN THE FOUNTAIN” spewed from his mouth in much the same manner the chocolate flowed the night before.

Oh, how the Mighty Martha Wannabe’s Christmas star fell that December night.

After enduring a much deserved dose of The Silent Treatment from Hubby, I quietly resolved to apologize to each employee individually.

I also resolved to leave the fancy party planning to Martha. And, as I washed the chocolate out of my now ruined party dress, I died a thousand social nightmare deaths. Hubby went to work that Monday barely speaking to me and still very angry.

Later that night, when Hubby walked in from work, I tried to keep from blurting “OMGwhatdidtheysayaboutmeandOMGdidyougetfiredbecauseofme??” and instead said, “Hey” in a very repentant tone. He told me, begrudgingly, that his coworkers could not stop talking about me, that the topic of conversation ALL DAY was about my antics.

I tried to keep the tears from spilling over as he said that my antics were the highlight of the year in office water cooler gossip.  Fresh shame washed over me.

Until…..

Hubby sheepishly admitted that he’d gotten into a lot of trouble at work for being angry at me. His coworkers delightedly told him that our party was the best they’d attended in years and it was refreshing to see someone actually have a good time at a work function.

In fact, the entire office unanimously agreed that I was now “one of them” and they promptly told him that no party was to happen henceforth without my attendance. They demanded that HE apologize to ME for something that clearly was beyond my control.  I believe they even said, “We thought she had a stick up her ass. We were so wrong!!”.

It was a Christmas miracle, I tell you.

Since that fateful December night, I have hosted many a Christmas function but I’m sad to say that the chocolate fountain never made another appearance at one of my parties again. Some things are best left in the past, creamy flowing chocolate or not. But, I’m willing to bet a huge bag of chocolate chips that Martha has pictures of her own chocolate fountain she’s praying no one ever sees….

chocolatechristmas

 

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Filed Under: Holly Daze Tagged With: Chocolate Fountain, Christmas

Comments

  1. WhenCrazyMeetsExhaustion says

    September 29, 2015 at 12:17 pm

    I haven’t laughed this hard in a long, LONG time. Here’s where I get all English teachery on you: the juxtaposition of the FANCY and the OOOPSIE are divine, and the imagery–LOVE. You painted a picture with this one, pal!

    SHARING!

    P.S. I had a chocolate fountain at my wedding. We’ll leave it at that.

    Reply
  2. Spoken Like A True Nut says

    September 29, 2015 at 1:37 pm

    I have to say it’s kind of a shame you don’t remember sticking your face in the chocolate fountain, because I think all of us have fantasized about doing that at one time or another and it’s the kind of experience you’d want to be able to relive over and over in decadent detail if you actually managed to get away with it.

    Reply
  3. Diana says

    September 29, 2015 at 6:48 pm

    What I don’t think you know and I know……you are loved by all and we are all human. I was there and you were by far the life of the party for all us party crazy people that work with your husband. Those were such wonderful years and I miss them all, and I especially miss ALL your Christmas parties.

    Reply
  4. Natasha says

    November 28, 2016 at 7:33 pm

    It’s SO dangerous to read your stories when I’m in the office. Explosive guffaws, snorts and chuckles are really not appropriate in a law firm! But OMG, I was crying with laughter on the inside, I can almost TASTE that chocolate facial! Love it!

    Reply

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Nurse. Wife. Mom. Runner. Blogger. Writer. Raiser of money for @stjude. #keeperofthefruitloops

Instagram post 2197674241214392454_177938362 Baby Jesus and Morgan Freeman always know, bitchachos. #christmas2019 #christmas #santaiswatching🎅🏼 #santaiscomingevenifthekidsarenaughty
Instagram post 2185154481062659796_177938362 Thursday. We eat on THURSDAY, kids. #thanksgivinghumor #thanksgivingdinner #thanksgiving🦃 #thanksgiving2019🍁🍂 #momhumor #momlife #momtruths #lifewithteens #parentingteens #keeperofthefruitloops
Instagram post 2182054873468539459_177938362 The holidays are coming and that means our lives are about to be filled with good food, close friends and family, and twinkling holiday lights.

As the song says, it's the most wonderful time of the year, right?

But, for those who are grieving, the holidays can feel heavy, sad, and not the least bit merry.

In fact, the year after my Dad died, I related to the Grinch and his cold dead heart on a cellular level.

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In fact, the year after my dad died, I couldn't bring myself to assemble the silly colored light tree I usually put in my office, the tree that had made me giddy in all it's $39 Target glory when I bought it the year before.

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Grief doesn't take a break just because your office is closed for the week between Christmas and New Year's.

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And, grief doesn't give a rat's ass that you find yourself crying in the middle of the grocery aisle because your loved one's favorite holiday classic is playing on the loudspeaker at the grocery store.

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If you know someone who is dealing with loss this season, consider sending them a meaningful gift from @BeyondFlowersAndFood. Their bereavement and pick me up gifts are the perfect way to say, "Grief sucks, but good friends don't."
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Instagram post 2172208339851812813_177938362 And he’s always holding a cup of coffee. Or tea. Bring. On. The. Christmas. Movies. 🧔🏻☕️🎄🎅🏼@hallmark @kissesfromboys #themostwonderfultimeoftheyear #christmasiscoming #christmasseason #hallmarkchristmasmovies #hallmarkmovies #dontjudge #hallmarkmoviesmakemehappy
Instagram post 2168257245068944462_177938362 When it comes to technology, I'm a fairly independent mom.
I know how to find my iCloud.
I (mostly) remember my passwords.
I can operate the 86 remotes my husband has hooked up to our sound system/tv.
But, the other day was just one of those "Why can't we just go back to a Walkman and a cassette?" kind of days.
I wanted to go for a run but it was pouring.
I wanted to catch up on some TV while running on the treadmill but the iPad sound wasn't working.
I wanted to listen to music on the treadmill but basically, the entire universe was telling me to just take several seats and eat Halloween candy instead.
Nevertheless, I persisted.
And called in the big guns: my teen.
In a matter of minutes, he had troubleshooted and brainstormed a solution.
There were extension cords, blue tooth devices, and several "I got this, Mah" eye rolls but, in the end, he managed to hook me up with his wireless speakers.
Yes, I looked ridiculous but I was READY for my run.
As I hit start, I told him, "Go ahead, hit the sound!"
And he did.
FART SOUNDS FLOODED MY EARS, BITCHACHOS.
As he keeled over laughing, I realized that this is motherhood with teens.
They are helpful, yes.
They also love getting a laugh at their mother's expense, disgusting sounds and all.
Also?
Fart apps remind us that we all have a 12 year old tucked inside us, just waiting for a good laugh. @joe_burke0227 
#lifewithteens #parentingteens #motherhoodunplugged #motherhood #momtruth #momofteens #teensaregross #teensarealsofunny #jokesonmom
Instagram post 2167910397888285871_177938362 I’m gonna getting my shit together any day now. Probably. Maybe. (Thanks for this gem, @xoxsai) #tgif #fridayvibes #fridaynight #motherhoodunplugged #momtruth #momlife #momproblems #parentingmemes #parentinghumor #momhumor #momjokesfordays
Instagram post 2164899974058480758_177938362 Good talk.
#halloween🎃 #candycornsucks #halloween2019 #halloweencandy #candycornistrash #teamreeses #peanutbuttercupsforthewin
👻🎃😈
Instagram post 2153448486786390354_177938362 Tonight, I sent my son off to Homecoming. Or, HoCo if you are a cool kid.
Moms of boys will tell you that boys are “easier” when it comes to dances.
Moms of girls have hair appointments for elaborate updos.
Moms of boys beg their sons to get get haircuts and to shave.
Moms of girls spend months looking for dresses, accessories, shoes, and handbags.
Moms of boys find themselves shopping 48 hours before the event in hopes of finding a fitted shirt in their size and questioning all our life choices when our sons say, “Can’t I just wear jeans?”
Moms of girls spend the afternoon of a dance helping to calm nerves about makeup, shoes that pinch, and chilly nights that necessitate a sweater over the teeny tiny dress she’s chosen.
Moms of boys watch their sons come in hot to the house  20 mins before they have to be ready for pictures asking, “Mah, can you iron my shirt?”
But, for all of the ease that boys bring, moms of boys will tell you that the glimpse of their sons cleaned up in a tie makes us remember the times when they promised marry us when they were three.
Moms of boys will tell you that seeing their smile when they are with their friends on their special night is what we’ve always hoped for them.
And moms of boys will tell you that when they throw their arms around your shoulder and  say, “Thanks for making tonight special, Mah,” you realize there’s nothing easy about watching them take one step closer to their college years.
Yes, boys are easier.
But not on our hearts.
Hope tonight was wonderful, @joe_burke0227. I’m waiting up to hear all about it.
#boymom #momofboys #parentingboys #motherhood #motherhoodunplugged #momtruth #momofteens
Instagram post 2153078872722286589_177938362 This is not a trick question, bitchachos. 🎃Being a teen in 2019 is hard work and our kids experience stresses we couldn’t even fathom back when we were wearing baby doll dresses and swooning over *NSYNC. Life is harder for them and if a teen wants to hold onto their childhood for another year by having some good clean fun in costumes, then I say the more the merrier. And I give out the good candy, too, so if you are hating on teens and Halloween, send them my way. My light will be on allllll night, teens. #halloween🎃 #halloween🎃👻 #lifewithteens #parentingteens #momofteens #parenting #momtruth #parentingunplugged #motherhoodunplugged
Instagram post 2151946494696120570_177938362 Before my father died, I didn't know how the process of grieving worked.

I didn't know that the call that changes your life comes when you are just about to sip a pumpkin spice coffee.

I didn't know that when you hear your loved one has passed away, you look around and wonder when someone who knows what to do will show up.

And I didn't know just how much lasagna I would eat for the next six months. Seriously: so. much. lasagna.

In the months and years after my father's death, I have tried to send meaningful bereavement gifts rather than flowers that will be chucked into the garbage a week later.

@beyondflowersandfood understands that, when crisis strikes, you just want to comfort a friend or a loved one with a gift that says, "I love you enough to not send a lasagna." Their team understands that the last thing you want to be doing while comforting a friend from afar is standing in long line in a post office.

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Instagram post 2135096184736474217_177938362 Last week, I attended a conference for work and I felt like a fish out of water.
The environment was new, the people were unfamiliar, and I was anxious to make a good impression.
Translation: it’s a recipe for excessive pit sweat, verbal diarrhea, and the constant worry you have something in your teeth.
After a long morning of attempting to look purposeful (read: control the verbal diarrhea), I found myself washing my hands in the bathroom next to a mom who was trying to finish up changing her little one’s diaper.
As the baby fussed in the stroller, I walked over and made faces to entertain her and told her mom to take her time.
For the first time at the conference, I felt like I’d made a connection.
And yes, it was with a six month old. Shut up.
The mom finished up, I held the door for her, and we exchanged pleasantries.
About 20 mins later, as I waited in line for a seat in the hotel restaurant, the mom and baby were there, too, ahead of me.
When the hostess asked her what size table she needed, she turned and looked at me.
“Would you like to join me for lunch?” she inquired with a hopeful smile.
I hope she didn’t see the tears in my eyes as I accepted.
We spent a lovely lunch together, exchanging professional resources and contacts as well as generally enjoying each other’s company.
A stranger’s kindness made all the difference for me that day.
When my kids were small, I always told them “Look for a mom with a stroller,” if they were separated from me.
“A mom will always help you if you are lost,” I would say.
I found a mom with a stroller and she did just that for me.
#MomsWithStrollersCanSaveTheWorld #momstrong #momstruggles #momstroller #workingmoms #momsofinstagram #motherhoodunplugged❤️ #momtruth #momlife #fincon19 #momshelpingmoms #bekind #choosekindness💕 #choosekind
Instagram post 2134206969211443729_177938362 Happy Monday, everyone! Here’s hoping you only run into people who can clearly tie their shoes....and that you aren’t stuck tying a toddler’s shoes 900 times. #mondaymotivation #mondayhumor #mondaymood #mondayvibes #monday😂 #surroundedbyidiots
Instagram post 2131996597930919816_177938362 This week, Hubby and I celebrated 20 years of marriage with a  grown ups only trip to NYC.
We wined. We dined. We slept like the dead in a quiet hotel room (seriously: 48 hours without carpools, teen social lives, and work responsibilities? Of course we slept. 😏)
Oh, and we touristed in every way.
Yesterday, we decided to climb @thevesselnyc and, about two staircases up, I realized my fear of heights was going to get the best of me.
Despite the fact that the staircases are enclosed, safe, and not at all obvious death traps, my brain told me otherwise.
Hubby caught this pic of what seems like me holding onto a railing on the 7th story.
What you can’t see is my heart pounding, palms sweating, and the terror in my chest.
You can’t see the panic and the feeling of doom that had enveloped me.
This is what a panic attack looks like: it’s a private hell and it’s not always obvious that someone is fighting a battle with anxiety.
As I was dry heaving and holding on for dear life, a kind dad with several kids put his hand on my shoulder and said, “I can see you are scared. Who can I find to help you? Do you need me to help you get down the stairs?”
That kind moment helped me focus and just being seen in my moment of anxiety was incredibly helpful.
Thankfully, Hubby was close by and this isn’t his first rodeo with my heights related panic (ask him how our anniversary hiking trip in @zionnational went two years ago). He did all of the right things to help me get safely back down to terra firma.
A fear of heights can be embarrassing for a control freak like myself, especially in public.
But it’s a reminder that everyone needs a helping hand.
Everyone has fears, things that make them feel panicked.
And, if you see someone who is struggling, acknowledge them and offer a helping hand.
It will make all the difference.
Also?
For our 25th anniversary, there will be no climbing excursions. Lesson learned. 
#anxiety #panicattack #fearofheights #nope #thevessel #thevesselnyc
Instagram post 2124767742570420414_177938362 .....but I'll be the first one to admit when my kids have screwed up. Don't get me wrong: I've always got their backs but, I'm not in the business of raising assholes, people. Do I think raising teens is the best part of parenting? Yes. Will I also call them out for bad behavior and make them own up to their poor choices? Also yes. (Follow @yourteenmag!) #lifewithteens #parentingteens #momofteens #momtruth #motherhoodunplugged #parentingteensishard
Instagram post 2124273829996831194_177938362 Before I had kids, I used a lot of “never” statements:
“I’m never getting a minivan.”
“I’m never getting a dog.”
“I’m never going to watch movies with superheroes, vampires, or creatures that don’t actually exist in reality.”
Welp.
While I have held firm on the minivan thing 💪🏻, I started eating my words a few years ago when a rescue named #daisytheshihtzu changed my life.
And, this summer, I swallowed my words again when I agreed to attend Marvel University with my teens.
Yep.
This mom became a super hero when she agreed to watch 18 Marvel flicks in release order.
Tonight is the finale: I’ve made it to End Game. I’ve done my course work, I’ve gone for tutoring (read: asked 9 thousand times what the hell a #tesseract is and drooled over #thorragnarok), and I’ve been a diligent student and not at all annoying. Ahem.
And the most surprising part?
I’ve loved every minute of my Marvel summer school assignments.
I did not see that coming, bitchachos.
When the kids announced they were in charge of snacks for our big Marvel finale night and they came home with snacks in the colors of the #infinitystones, I realized that you don’t have to wear a cape to be a hero to your kids.
Turns out, you just have to be willing to wear a #captainamerica T shirt every now and again while the dog you said you’d never get silently judges you.
#marvelmom #ididntseethiscoming #marvelmoviemom #marvelmovies #momhero #motherhoodunplugged #momtruth #lifewithteens #momofteens
Instagram post 2119693850103769981_177938362 My tongue has permanent scars from all the times I've bitten it to keep myself from devolving into a teenager around my teens. No, but seriously, I DESERVE A MEDAL, BITCHACHOS. Follow @yourteenmag because they are biting their tongues, too. #lifewithteens #parentingteens #momofteens #bitingmytongueforinfinity
Instagram post 2119212585531104679_177938362 When I sent my first child off to school, I baked a batch of cookies that day to keep my mind off how much my heart hurt seeing him head to kindergarten.
When my youngest left for school, I baked through tears to keep my mind off how quiet the house was that day.
Every year, on the first day of school, they come home to a fresh plate of cookies.
Some years, I bake because I’m anxiously awaiting word that a new school is gonna be just fine.
Other years, I bake to ignore the mess left behind by a summer well summered.
And, some years, I bake because the realization that years are going by too fast is too much and the combination of shortening, butter, and sugar are a salve.
They think I’m doing it for them. Little do they know.....
Today, I sent my son off for his junior year of high school.
This is his second to last first day of school.
Baking always helps. 
And homemade chocolate chip cookies don’t suck, either. ❤️#backtoschool #backtoschool2019 #bakermom #chocolatechipcookies #cookiesmakeeverythingbetter🍪 #momofteens #momofteenagers #momtruth #motherhoodunplugged❤️ #Parenting #baking #bakewithlove
Instagram post 2116036249461581287_177938362 Tuesday night wasn’t special.
It was just a random summer Tuesday and I found myself in NYC overnight for work.
After a full, productive day and with most of my city friends on vacation or with other plans, I found myself with  an evening to myself.
It’s been a long summer with kids and a dog and a “work from home more than he doesn’t” husband underfoot as I’ve juggled my full time freelance life.
It’s been a lot.
But, what there hasn’t been a lot of is ME enjoying a lazy summer evening.
So, rather than retiring to my hotel room to spend several hours logging more work time to get ahead on projects, I laced up and ran out the door.
Before I knew it, I’d run 46 blocks on a hot, sweaty summer evening in the city.
I raced the unsuspecting runners next to me (I won, of course), I dodged bikers, and I smiled at dogs on their evening constitutionals with their owners.
Mostly, I let myself breathe in the feels of summer.
Six exhausting miles later, I detoured through Grand Central Station just to marvel at how pretty that space is, rather than dashing through like I usually do.
As I kicked off my running shoes and sipped the giant beer I treated myself to after a run well done, I promptly knocked over said beer and it soaked my brand new running shoe completely through just as Hubby tried FaceTiming me to see how my day went.
Because that’s what motherhood does to you: you might run away from home but your chaotic life will always be waiting for you when you get home.
So, go for the run.
Take a walk around the block.
Sit in the garage for an extra five before you face the disaster of homework, dinner, and bedtime.
The mess will always be waiting.
But you’ll feel ready to deal with whatever they are throwing at you.
#workingmom #momlife #momtruth #runnermom #momrunner #workingmomproblems #motherhoodunplugged❤️ #keeperofthefruitloops
Instagram post 2114620665150584341_177938362 OMG, I was ALWAYS that kid....and, inevitably, I'd walk into an open locker or a giant upperclass football player would knock me over and then I'd miss the details about how my friends were going to the mall and  I'd have to pretend I heard everything they said while still trying to look cool even though I had a goose egg from walking into a locker while being polite. OMG, HIGH SCHOOL WAS HARD. Please tell me I am not the only one who was awkward AF in high school. (Follow @yourteenmag!) #lifewithteens #parentingteens #momofteens #momtruth #motherhoodunplugged #parentingteensishard #highschoolmemories #highschooldaze #highschool
Instagram post 2109547373351977212_177938362 It really is a fine line with teenagers. Ahem. (Follow @yourteenmag!) #lifewithteens #parentingteens #momofteens #momtruth #motherhoodunplugged #parentingteensishard
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