Er, Happy New Year’s Eve, at least!
I’m looking forward to a light-hearted evening that will hopefully include some good conversation and lots of laughs, just not at my expense. We’ll have food, games, family and beer…
And… OH the BEER.
Thanks to an awesome Christmas present from my mother, I am now the proud co-owner of a kegerator and keg of Triple Hop Red from Lengthwise. Yippee!!!!
At midnight we’ll whip out the champagne and sparkling cider to wish everyone a Happy New Year and then sing Happy Birthday to Maggie. Maggs turns 4 tomorrow, I can’t believe it!
I’ve decided that I might actually make one resolution this year. More on that later… right into the mix with the other nine million posts about New Year’s and resolutions.
My Christmas stuff is still out. Although, it might come down tomorrow, ok, Wednesday at the absolute latest. I spent most of yesterday in bed with a migraine and come to think of it, the last few days has been just about the same. I’m going to assume it is “end of the year burnout” that will subside as soon as 2008 gets underway. God help me if that isn’t the case, I might finally lose it. (Not that I have much left to lose anyway)
So, as I mentioned – we have a kegerator now. My husband has wanted one since he was fifteen. This means that our garage has been converted into a testosterone filled clubhouse complete with a drum set, darts, afore mentioned kegerator, fishing equipment and, of course, the obligatory power tools.
Oh and cigars. But, he doesn’t keep those out there. Needless to say that for the last two nights the garage has been filled with cigar smoke, noise, and Mike worshiping at the alter of the kegerator. It’s enough to bring a tear to your eye… the cigar smoke that is.
Not that I haven’t imbibed. I just prefer to do so at a cool microbrewery or restaurant with comfortable seats and great appetizers. If I enjoy beer at home I really prefer the deck or some other comfy spot that I can curl up with a magazine or new catalog, but not a smoke filled garage with classic concert posters (Ted Nugent, KISS, Black Sabbath) pinned on the walls and oh-so carefully highlighted by the soft glow of a fully-functioning lava lamp and the kids taking turns banging the living hell out of the drums. Actually, the term “kids” would also include my husband.
Anyway, think of me tonight knowing that I will be resisting being dragged into the smoke filled cave of “those who have penises or at least claim to.” After all, I’ll be thinking of you and hoping that you have a wonderful New Year’s Eve and a kick-ass start to 2008 that hopefully doesn’t include someone trying to drag you into a smoke filled cave to drink beer while having your eardrums bludgeoned to death. Unless, of course, you’re in to that sort of thing.