Live Blogging from the Pomegranate Raspberry Mulled Wine & Whiskey 2007 Sendoff Festivus Eritrean Party

Welcome to the Live Blogging of the Glühwein Party, for all of you poor cold losers who decided to settle in other parts of the world. It's 5:30 P.M. Pacific Time, 40 degrees in Berkeley, somewhat ugly weather here. Life is short, but the Webb Block has been polished & dusted, roses are on the table. A dvd of a fireplace burns on the tv set.

5:15. I am alone & I wash my hands, & make my delicious Puffed Millet Cookies.
5:30. Liam calls from the recycled paper office & tells me he is on his way, bringing friends.
5:40. Six bottles of Two Buck Chuck Shiraz are opened & emptied into a large cauldron.
6:40. Liam & friends have come & gone back to the store for more cheese & more bread. The past hour has been spent slowly warming up the wine & adding many many delicious ingredients. The third movement of Gorecki's Third Symphony, coming on randomly, made the de-seeding of the pomegranate much more emotional than it might otherwise have been.
8:30. Ten people are here eating cookies, Stolen, pineapples, & drinking Liam's amazing Raspberry Whiskey (which has been fermenting for two months), & my mulled wine. Cheeks are beginning to look a bit flushed.
9:00. A brief interlude to watch Leopard Slug sex.
10:15. Virtue's hit the rum.
10:30. The roses on the table have been replaced by a Trivial Pursuit board.
11:00. Liam creepily correctly answers "Fifty-four" to the question "What was the number of Gunther Toody's patrol car?"
11:30. Sixty-six-point-six percent of the party up-&-runs out the door towards the penultimate BART train.
12:00 A.M. My upstairs neighbor makes an appearance with her husband, erroneously thinking they have interrupted something between me & the remaining guest. They drink a glass of Glühwein & borrow The Princess Bride.
12:45. I am alone with a few glasses of mulled wine to go. A few hours ago I rejuvenated it with dark rum, sugar, & limes. It's sticking to my teeth, but I'm determined to see the sun rise, so, Merry Festivus to all, & to all a googily opulent yarblat.