Archive for October 8th, 2007

You know, after last night…to hell with my family. Well, not sister.

Indeed, I hate the holidays but I had a great time. However, it was a bit of grand piss up. I don’t think it was intended to be. Time just sort of passed, no one kept track of glasses of wine at dinner…then we got into the Single Malts later in the evening!

Interesting cast of characters. G., the hostess, her two kids, J,. her ex-husband (their father) R. from the pub as well, J. a friend of G.’s and myself. Goodness, apart from R. I think we all had ADD! The conversation went all over the map and started off being controlled by her extremely intelligent children and then was completely taken over by the lunatic adults. Except for R. who offered a bit here and there.

The kids left before dessert as they had a party to attend and their father left at the same time as he doesn’t like R. G. and R. had a “relationship”a brief while ago so, erm…well, then! Anyway, after they all left, time for the adults to party!

But before that, you know how you are always supposed to “give thanks” at Thanksgiving? Well, G. who invited me gave a wee speech about all the things she was thankful for. Some things included were her children present, her friends’ apartment where we were dining (reason being, she had been enlisted to take care of their cat while they were away.) The couple knew the bulk of us and didn’t care. They’re in the same building as G. She also mentioned me and the flowers I brought. How kind. I didn’t make it to the liquor store before it closed but who cares? Just bring something! She loved them. And it was fine because others brought alcohol anyway.

The food was excellent. Hilarious. She told me beforehand it was going to be catered from a high end hotel in our city. I had to laugh. Well, fair enough, it’s a lot of work to put this sort of meal together for a group but when she told me how much she spent on it, I just about choked on my stuffing! I should have brought more than flowers! She did joke that when she does a “repeat” for all of us at Christmas she’d “probably charge admission.” *laughing*

G. is great though. Older than I am–50. Hey, at least as you get older maturity levels catch up. Our difference is 13 years. That’s one year less than myself and good ol’ (or should I say young) 23 year old. Whom I have not heard from, by the way, just in case anyone is curious. I think she is too young and just…whatever… Even though she says she knows what she wants, she may not.

I think I’m back at the stage where I don’t want to have sex with anyone. But that may change. And then change again. And again. DIY is just so much easier, though… Heh.

G. and I have this joke about how I wish she was gay and if she was…oh, she says she’d definitely be with PA! She lets me flirt with her completely. You have to love people that are comfortable with their sexuality and even still, are willing to further explore it on whatever level. G. is so fucking cool. She’ll just let me be affectionate (to a degree?) but it’s still nice. A bit of a touch and a kiss here and there. HA! I told you PA can be a terrible flirt!

Anyway…just silliness…now on to the whisky tasting!

Now this is getting a little fun for PA. No, really…I think I’m seriously enjoying it more than I would wine tasting. But certainly last night it went beyond tasting!

So lately, it’s been a couple of Irish whiskies: Bushmills, the only single malt they have in my pub. And by the way, I’m actually getting a bit sick of my pub as a lot of people there are becoming massive jerks–this may be a good thing as it will prevent me from going there? If the Bushmills is out or…meh…not interested, go across the street to another pub for some Tullamore Dew (or as I’ve nicknamed it: “Tullamore Don’t.”) It’s too easy to just keep ordering it.

Last night, it was Scotch tasting night. I was introduced to Laphroaig and Dun Bheagan. The former is from Islay, an island in the southern most Inner Hebrides. It’s a strong Scotch. The thing about Islay is, there’s a lot of peat in the water. Salty goodness? Well, that’s up to you. Iodine as well–“medicinal” flavour. Interesting in looking this up today as that is exactly the word I would have used last night to describe it! Whew.

I can’t confirm where Dun Bheagan is from! Some sites are saying Islay, some are saying the Highland. Anyway, at least it’s somewhere in the same country *rolls eyes* I’m just being dumb…apologies to the people from UK and the Scots in particular…I’m not making fun of you or your country–or your whisky. Just my poor geography and bad memory of a bottle label from last night?

But if it’s the Eastern Highland then they are close to each other. Or if it’s Islay, well to my immature palate, not nearly as strong and my preference of the two. Not to mention that the Laphroaig was older and the Dun Bheagan was younger so that might have played a difference? Still, it was good to learn what tastes nice and a bit different in case I want to go out and buy some whisky.

So fab, fab, fab all around. And if G. follows through, and no doubt she will knowing her, it looks like I’ll probably have something to do for Christmas as I’m quite sure that I won’t receive a family invite from dad’s side as I didn’t last year. And even if I do? I’ll probably turn it down in favour of attending G.’s event!

Oh, and presumably Mumsy will invite me for dinner as well at Christmas. That’s just a dinner of rambly insanity and pretty much a hang on and get me outta there ASAP kind of thing.

Bloody hell, I’m tired though. Escher wants to meet so I suggested dinner–again, let’s keep eating. I’m tempted to just stay home and laze about but no, it would probably be good to get a bit mobile. And we’re meeting early so I’ll just dine and dash? There will no drinking involved as I want to encourage him to stay sober. I should follow his lead. Normally G. and R. don’t drink that much as well so I think last night was just a blip on the radar. So yes, let’s try (again) to avoid the unbelievable vortex of my pub and concentrate on some more important issues than becoming a toxic, cesspool of death.