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or, the resident lunatic Christmas party 2004 2005 yesterday.
The Elton John version of Your Song, despite being the original, is not, in my humble opinion, the best one. For unashamed romantic melodrama and soaring violins, nothing beats the Ewan McGregor Moulin Rouge version. It seems the residents are on a musical kick at the moment - I clambered into Ron at Conway Park with the others to be met by a rousing chorus of "The Phantom of the Opera is here!" I haven't seen the film yet, but I've seen the stage show and can just about remember the catchier numbers, so for half an hour there were dimly yellow-lit motorways, manic driving and accompanying angels of music. In a manner of speaking.
We were having dinner last night to celebrate four things - Hannah's birthday, Clare's birthday, Christmas and New Year - which are respectively November 16th, November 23rd, December 25th and January 1st. Celebrating them all yesterday made a whole lot of sense. The meal was fun, although there were Mundanes around - heh - one of whom gave Clare a shotglass fridge (long story), but the food was good. I am more in the mood for dialogue than prose, so, while we were still at the restaurant:
Me: (re: strawberry schnapps) Can I have it?
Clare: No! Mine!
Emily: Chicken!
Colleen: Tara and Doyle, warped and twisted. Well done.
Me: Thank you! Do people slash Wesley and Angel?
Colleen: Ohmygodyes.
Me: Yay. Slashy.
Someone normal (I honestly forget who): Slashy?
Me&Colleen: ....
Emily: Smoky bacon crisps! Chicken!
Enid: Ever kissed someone in a vestry?
Me: No...
Enid: Ever had sex on the altar?
Colleen: (in unison) Sacrilege!
Me: (in unison) Cool!
Clare: Raspberry sundae! I've been looking forward to this all week!
Emily: Yay, chicken!
Afterwards, we paid, worked out the service charge with a great deal of difficulty,and wandered back to Ron to get out Emily's presents. Having only arrived that afternoon, she wasn't feeling up to the night's party, and she lingered in the cold while presents were bestowed upon her.
There was more Phantom of the Opera on the way to Clare's (she'd forgotten something, I don't know what) and then onto Liscard. We set up carefully, with fairy lights, presents all over the floor, bedding draped around and about, and drinks safely out of the way. There was vodka and Malibu for the usual suspects, Smirnoff Ice for Enid, and Bailey's and peach Archers for me. Before anyone says anything, I said I wouldn't drink anything, and they went and bought two bottles to guilt me into drinking some of it (it worked). I say "they", but Clare had to buy it all with her Christmas bonus pretending that it wasn't all for her. Hannah brought down the CD player and put the Moulin Rouge OST on. Like I said, soundtrack thing.
Yay for the Resident Christmas. It's tradition now, as I don't have any other Christmas, and apparently family Christmases aren't all they're cracked up to be (I wouldn't know) and it's so much fun. Emily wasn't there, and Enid hadn't brought hers, but there were still plenty in the middle of the circle. The first gift was for me, from Clare. It was enormous. Once I'd pulled off the wrapping, it turned out to be a giant Eeyore cushion. It's gorgeous.
I got everyone else stuff from India - bags from Janpath for Colleen and Enid (that they have declared to be Teh Sex, so yay), evil papier-mache cats and earrings for Emily and Clare, and for Hannah, because it seemed a good idea at the time, an enormous white and purple lampshade. She insisted on putting it on her head, until I complained she looked like a member of the Ku Klux Klan.
Colleen gave me fairy lights (which I have left in Ron! eek), squee for the wishlist meme, and pretty silver hoops (wishlist meme again!), and Hannah gave me the Watcher's Guide, volume one. I am very much of the squee, and quoted from the latter for most of the night. Other stand-out gifts include those magnetic letters you stick on the fridge (from Hannah to Enid), a gingerbread house with reusable chimneys (ditto), fluffy dice (from Colleen to Clare) and a purple magic eight ball (Colleen to Hannah). The magic eight ball said "chances are good" when asked "Will the resident lunatics win the next X-Factor?"
Um.
The rest of the night was spent drinking:
Me: *drinks Archers from bottle, chokes* Clare! This isn't Archers Aqua!
Clare: It says it is on the bottle!
Me: This is forty-six percent proof!
Clare: ...oops?
Hannah: You know, Ripper dropped out of Oxford.
Me: I know, yeah.
Hannah: I still think you should go.
Colleen: Hannah, you're drunk.
Hannah: Maybe a leetle.
Colleen: Actually, actually...
Me: You said 'actually' with no C. 'Atually...'
Colleen: Actually, I'm not all that...
Me: And "all" with no Ls!
Colleen: ...drunk!
We fell asleep about two-ish, after playing a few million rounds of I Never Did until it started getting kinky, and slept through random outbursts of music until ten thirty in the morning, when they gave me coffee. There was roadtrippage. It was fun.
Today, I have been to the library, got books, dropped in on Tony and bugged him, and come home to discover a massive huge massive huge wad of sheets I have to do before Thursday. Blaargh.
The Elton John version of Your Song, despite being the original, is not, in my humble opinion, the best one. For unashamed romantic melodrama and soaring violins, nothing beats the Ewan McGregor Moulin Rouge version. It seems the residents are on a musical kick at the moment - I clambered into Ron at Conway Park with the others to be met by a rousing chorus of "The Phantom of the Opera is here!" I haven't seen the film yet, but I've seen the stage show and can just about remember the catchier numbers, so for half an hour there were dimly yellow-lit motorways, manic driving and accompanying angels of music. In a manner of speaking.
We were having dinner last night to celebrate four things - Hannah's birthday, Clare's birthday, Christmas and New Year - which are respectively November 16th, November 23rd, December 25th and January 1st. Celebrating them all yesterday made a whole lot of sense. The meal was fun, although there were Mundanes around - heh - one of whom gave Clare a shotglass fridge (long story), but the food was good. I am more in the mood for dialogue than prose, so, while we were still at the restaurant:
Me: (re: strawberry schnapps) Can I have it?
Clare: No! Mine!
Emily: Chicken!
Colleen: Tara and Doyle, warped and twisted. Well done.
Me: Thank you! Do people slash Wesley and Angel?
Colleen: Ohmygodyes.
Me: Yay. Slashy.
Someone normal (I honestly forget who): Slashy?
Me&Colleen: ....
Emily: Smoky bacon crisps! Chicken!
Enid: Ever kissed someone in a vestry?
Me: No...
Enid: Ever had sex on the altar?
Colleen: (in unison) Sacrilege!
Me: (in unison) Cool!
Clare: Raspberry sundae! I've been looking forward to this all week!
Emily: Yay, chicken!
Afterwards, we paid, worked out the service charge with a great deal of difficulty,and wandered back to Ron to get out Emily's presents. Having only arrived that afternoon, she wasn't feeling up to the night's party, and she lingered in the cold while presents were bestowed upon her.
There was more Phantom of the Opera on the way to Clare's (she'd forgotten something, I don't know what) and then onto Liscard. We set up carefully, with fairy lights, presents all over the floor, bedding draped around and about, and drinks safely out of the way. There was vodka and Malibu for the usual suspects, Smirnoff Ice for Enid, and Bailey's and peach Archers for me. Before anyone says anything, I said I wouldn't drink anything, and they went and bought two bottles to guilt me into drinking some of it (it worked). I say "they", but Clare had to buy it all with her Christmas bonus pretending that it wasn't all for her. Hannah brought down the CD player and put the Moulin Rouge OST on. Like I said, soundtrack thing.
Yay for the Resident Christmas. It's tradition now, as I don't have any other Christmas, and apparently family Christmases aren't all they're cracked up to be (I wouldn't know) and it's so much fun. Emily wasn't there, and Enid hadn't brought hers, but there were still plenty in the middle of the circle. The first gift was for me, from Clare. It was enormous. Once I'd pulled off the wrapping, it turned out to be a giant Eeyore cushion. It's gorgeous.
I got everyone else stuff from India - bags from Janpath for Colleen and Enid (that they have declared to be Teh Sex, so yay), evil papier-mache cats and earrings for Emily and Clare, and for Hannah, because it seemed a good idea at the time, an enormous white and purple lampshade. She insisted on putting it on her head, until I complained she looked like a member of the Ku Klux Klan.
Colleen gave me fairy lights (which I have left in Ron! eek), squee for the wishlist meme, and pretty silver hoops (wishlist meme again!), and Hannah gave me the Watcher's Guide, volume one. I am very much of the squee, and quoted from the latter for most of the night. Other stand-out gifts include those magnetic letters you stick on the fridge (from Hannah to Enid), a gingerbread house with reusable chimneys (ditto), fluffy dice (from Colleen to Clare) and a purple magic eight ball (Colleen to Hannah). The magic eight ball said "chances are good" when asked "Will the resident lunatics win the next X-Factor?"
Um.
The rest of the night was spent drinking:
Me: *drinks Archers from bottle, chokes* Clare! This isn't Archers Aqua!
Clare: It says it is on the bottle!
Me: This is forty-six percent proof!
Clare: ...oops?
Hannah: You know, Ripper dropped out of Oxford.
Me: I know, yeah.
Hannah: I still think you should go.
Colleen: Hannah, you're drunk.
Hannah: Maybe a leetle.
Colleen: Actually, actually...
Me: You said 'actually' with no C. 'Atually...'
Colleen: Actually, I'm not all that...
Me: And "all" with no Ls!
Colleen: ...drunk!
We fell asleep about two-ish, after playing a few million rounds of I Never Did until it started getting kinky, and slept through random outbursts of music until ten thirty in the morning, when they gave me coffee. There was roadtrippage. It was fun.
Today, I have been to the library, got books, dropped in on Tony and bugged him, and come home to discover a massive huge massive huge wad of sheets I have to do before Thursday. Blaargh.
