Annual [fill in the December holiday of your choice] party was yesterday. Hum. Okay, so all the decor and music was totally Mithramas, er, Christmas, but everyone was welcome. Much food, much drink, delightful presents of Irish alcohol from a couple of dear friends, and 50-odd people through the door, most of whom congregated in the living room and, in a new twist for this year, the hallway rather than out in the frigid-for-Tucson chilly night.
All the pre-planning and swearing up and down that this would not be like previous years went completely by the wayside, of course, as I was still scurrying around like a madwoman as the first guest arrived. Next year, goddammit, it will all be done a week ahead of time. A. Week. Ahead. During the course of the evening, I managed to forget one couple's names and so was a less than stellar host for not introducing them around. I also made an unconscionably sober pact with another friend to acquire, and learn to passably play, a set of bagpipes.
Yee hah. If you were there I hope you had a good time. Nothing caught on fire and nobody died, so a success all the way around.