Dec. 16th, 2007 09:34 pm
"Live in uncertainty"
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bunj and e. on another wildly successful Christmas party. All their suffering through construction this past summer (and fall) paid off grandly. Three hours in, e. confided to me that she hadn't had to leave the kitchen yet: The party kept coming to her. The dining nook in the expanded kitchen really is ridiculously inviting. If not for the necessity of retiring to living room for the Great Unenveloping, I might never have left it either. After all, the view of the snow sifting over backyards was enchanting, the cool kids (i.e. the smokers) were all hanging out there, and the bar was less than a yard away.
The surprise favourites for the night were the Santa Clara brand rompope I brought--ladysophis2k8 showed the way by drinking it diluted to half with Bacardi and it was almost completely demolished by the end of the evening--and an incredibly girly near-kir royal (made with syrup rather than crème de cassis--kir réginal anyone?) Later, I switched to sprinkling cassis syrup into Persephone vodka tonics and then gradually eliminated the vodka after I got as messed up as I wanted to be.
That point came rapidly after I inaugurated a drinking game based on one of my new gifts, a picture books of 70s and 80s hunks given me byspookyfruit. I held up each page as I read aloud the names; if it was a pinup you fancied back in the day, you had to take a sip. I liked the fact that the hunks came in pairs, so the world will never need know if took that gulp for Donny Osmond rather than Patrick Duffy. There were some criminal omissions, however; bunj was as outraged as I over the lack of Gil Gerard and I don't have to have had a whit of interest in Leif Garrett or John Stamos to agree that no such compilation can call itself complete without them.
Because we're all men and women d'un certain âge, the festivities broke up before 11, but of course I was awake for another couple hours after that, still bathing in the lingering warmth of so much good food, drink, and company. I'm guessinglhn must've been somewhat sleepless, too, since the photos he took were up in his Flickr set (with captions!) before the night was over. (Hoffentlich findet der nibadi das Foto von mir und monshu so niedlich als ich.) Oh, and ladysophis2k8 didn't want links to the short films I told her about, so I'll just give the titles: No Béarla and Yu Ming is ainm dom. Bain sult astu!
bunj and e. on another wildly successful Christmas party. All their suffering through construction this past summer (and fall) paid off grandly. Three hours in, e. confided to me that she hadn't had to leave the kitchen yet: The party kept coming to her. The dining nook in the expanded kitchen really is ridiculously inviting. If not for the necessity of retiring to living room for the Great Unenveloping, I might never have left it either. After all, the view of the snow sifting over backyards was enchanting, the cool kids (i.e. the smokers) were all hanging out there, and the bar was less than a yard away.The surprise favourites for the night were the Santa Clara brand rompope I brought--
ladysophis2k8 showed the way by drinking it diluted to half with Bacardi and it was almost completely demolished by the end of the evening--and an incredibly girly near-kir royal (made with syrup rather than crème de cassis--kir réginal anyone?) Later, I switched to sprinkling cassis syrup into Persephone vodka tonics and then gradually eliminated the vodka after I got as messed up as I wanted to be.That point came rapidly after I inaugurated a drinking game based on one of my new gifts, a picture books of 70s and 80s hunks given me by
spookyfruit. I held up each page as I read aloud the names; if it was a pinup you fancied back in the day, you had to take a sip. I liked the fact that the hunks came in pairs, so the world will never need know if took that gulp for Donny Osmond rather than Patrick Duffy. There were some criminal omissions, however; bunj was as outraged as I over the lack of Gil Gerard and I don't have to have had a whit of interest in Leif Garrett or John Stamos to agree that no such compilation can call itself complete without them.Because we're all men and women d'un certain âge, the festivities broke up before 11, but of course I was awake for another couple hours after that, still bathing in the lingering warmth of so much good food, drink, and company. I'm guessing
lhn must've been somewhat sleepless, too, since the photos he took were up in his Flickr set (with captions!) before the night was over. (Hoffentlich findet der nibadi das Foto von mir und monshu so niedlich als ich.) Oh, and ladysophis2k8 didn't want links to the short films I told her about, so I'll just give the titles: No Béarla and Yu Ming is ainm dom. Bain sult astu!