What isn’t Apple, audiobooks, or alcohol is probably cats.
As usual, Rochelle’s invitation to a recent party is funny and worth preserving. In addition to Rochelle’s birthday, this was the “coming out” party for our new kitchen (even though it wasn’t quite finished). We do regret that we didn’t get to the grilled cheese sandwiches on the griddle, but at least we _did_ make quesadillas.
As usual, Rochelle’s invitation to a recent party is funny and worth preserving. In addition to Rochelle’s birthday, this was the “coming out” party for our new kitchen (even though it wasn’t quite finished). We do regret that we didn’t get to the grilled cheese sandwiches on the griddle, but at least we did make quesadillas.
Worst of all, we forgot to take any photos during the event, especially of people in the kitchen. We’ll just have to try harder (or drink less) next time.
On New Year’s Eve we had a daytime open house and “freecycle” party. I thought I’d post the invite here, since people told us it was pretty amusing…
I wrote previously about our New Year’s Eve open house and “freecycle” party. I thought I’d post the invite here, since people told us it was pretty amusing…
On New Year’s Eve, Rochelle and I had a “Freecycle party,” where we put all the things we were getting rid of in our dining room, invited people over, gave them plenty of alcohol, and then told them they could take anything in the pile that they wanted.
On New Year’s Eve, Rochelle and I had a “Freecycle party,” where we put all the things we were getting rid of in our dining room, invited people over, gave them plenty of alcohol, and told them they could take anything they wanted from the pile. The idea being, people would go home with new treasures, we would get rid of a bunch of crap, and whatever didn’t go, we would take to Goodwill the following Sunday.
Except, it was raining Sunday, and for a couple of weeks afterwards. We couldn’t work up the enthusiasm to drag bags and boxes to the car, multiple times, in the rain. So we skipped it.
This weekend we finally took the second car load of stuff to Goodwill, and can at last rearrange the dining room back to a semblance of its normal state. Still one more load to go, but that will definitely happen this week, and then our dining room will be back to normal.
For a couple of days, until we start dragging the entire kitchen in there, to start work on that project…
When Rochelle proposed we go out Thursday, I asked her, given she is planning a summer picnic for 100 people and has a school assignment due, both on Saturday, if she should be going out drinking. She said it was OK, but we absolutely could not go anywhere else after. So of course, when the guy sitting on the bar stool next to me told us about The Glenlivet party that was starting in 30 minutes, we decided to crash that one, too.
When Rochelle proposed we go out Thursday, I asked her, given she is planning a summer picnic for 100 people and has a school assignment due, both on Saturday, if she should be going out drinking. She said it was OK, but we absolutely could not go anywhere else after.
So of course, when the guy sitting on the bar stool next to me told us about The Glenlivet party that was starting in 30 minutes, we decided to crash that one, too. (Thank god I decided to bathe yesterday!)
We finished our drinks, paid our tab, and zipped across town. Finding a parking space was remarkably easy, but in spite of that, we were still 20 minutes late.
No problem! The program has already started, just go in and find yourselves seats. We won’t hold you up here with any registration crap, since then you’d miss the wonderful information our speaker is imparting! Woohoo!
The program was actually a vertical tasting of four Glenlivet Scotches, very cool. It was clearly a promotional program for The Glenlivet. I’m sure they’re doing dozens of these around the country, hoping to raise awareness for Scotch and The Glenlivet.
Rochelle and I have been to a few of these kinds of parties (a few times we were even invited). Done well, people leave feeling like they learned something cool, that they can now be the expert on this subject in their social circle. Ideally, they turn into enthusiasts and evangelists for the product. (God knows we have on the subject of tequila, so we know this does work.)
In other words, there is both thought and purpose behinds these kinds of promotional events — unlike so many of the dot.bomb parties that were thrown. People are still getting drunk on Marketing’s dollar, but Marketing can explain clearly what they plan to get out of it, and in all likelihood, can point to improved regional numbers afterwards.
Now we just need to figure out how to learn about these types of parties in a predictable, repeatable way, instead of by randomly talking to strangers in bars.
Yesterday at 3pm Rochelle asked me if I wanted to go out, to a party she had seen posted on Chowhound.com, at a local bar, Butter. The Food Network was going to be there, shooting footage of Butter’s unique approach to bar food, and there would be free food samples and giveaway goodies. Most importantly, there would be 25¢ pints of beer, and $2 cosmos. I was in like Flint, as they say.
Yesterday at 3pm Rochelle asked me if I wanted to go out, to a party she had seen posted on Chowhound.com, at a local bar, Butter. She included the description of the event, which explained that the Food Network was going to be there, shooting footage of Butter’s unique approach to bar food, and there would be free food samples and giveaway goodies. Most importantly, there would be 25¢ pints of beer, and $2 cosmos. I was in like Flint, as they say.
I got there before Rochelle, and watched the Food Network crew of three methodically lighting and shooting individual servings of Butter’s food, which Butter calls “White Trash Bistro cuisine.” I.e., Spaghetti-O’s, corn dogs, Frito pie, Tater Tots. That sort of thing.
Now, Rochelle and I both have a high appreciation for the possibilities of that kind of food. In the right hands, re-imagined, it could be amazing. Indeed, one of our favorite dishes at Memphis Minnie’s is the Frito pie, because it’s Bob’s own chili on the Fritos, and Bob’s chili is amazingly good.
Alas, Butter is literally opening cans of Spaghetti-O’s, and canned chili, and bags of Tater Tots, etc., and heating ’em up before serving. Worse, they’re mostly using a microwave to heat them up. Microwaved Tater Tots are not good. Only the corn dogs were decent, and even those would have been better if they’d been deep fried, the way god intended.
Fortunately, you have enough 25¢ beers and you stop worrying about the food. The beer was Pabst, but at 25¢, it’s hard to complain. And the bartenders were all friendly and fun, we had a good time talking to Frank in particular.
The best part, to us, was the giveaways. We each got a baseball cap with the bar logo on it. Truly, I have reached the pinnacle of head attire, now that I have a hat that says “butter” on it. Everything’s better with butter, so I plan to wear the cap everywhere.
It had been over a year since the last time we threw a party at our house, so we were overdue. And you could forgive us if we forgot a few things, namely, never throw a party on the weekend of the change to Daylight Savings Time.
It had been over a year since the last time we threw a party at our house, so we were overdue. And you could forgive us if we forgot a few things. Which of course we did, but it went well anyway. We send the last few folks home at 5am.
Note to self: never throw a party on the weekend of the change to Daylight Savings Time — you lose an hour of recovery time on the day after, which was…painful when I went to work today.
So we got home from the after dinner party fairly early, about 2am, because Rochelle has having some digestive problems, probably from all the rich food we’d been eating. And we pretty much went straight to sleep, only to be woken up around 6am by the rest of our traveling circus returning from the same party.
Rochelle — a morning person — got up and joined the group, still highly-energetic and talky. I never really woke up, and slept a few more hours before being ready to face the day.
With so little time left before Dave and Joyce’s party, no one wanted to go to bed, except Damon, who’d not only been partying with the best of them, but had been cooking for 100 while the rest of us were part of the 100, sitting, drinking, and eating.
Then we went to Dave and Joyce’s, and you know the rest.