Well, here we are...
I'm working my way through a do-it-yourself champagne breakfast right now; bacon, scrambled eggs, pan-fried potatoes with green pepper and onion, and "sham-pagne" and orange juice cocktails. I've got to find a way to finish this booze, after all it'd be a shame to waste it.
Last night was largely uneventful as I stayed in. I watched the countdown event at Niagara Falls, which was fun, and played through the first level in Mirror's Edge, which was fun but frustrating at times. (I blame the booze. It's misapplied blame, as I can be pretty cack-handed at platformers even when stone sober, but y'gotta find your excuses where you can...) I also watched The Dark Knight during dinner.
I did have one very minor medical crisis that would've been horribly embarrassing had I gone out; a monster zit had formed on my upper lip the night before, and just as I was leaving the roast duck out to rest it asploded on me. No contaminants into the meal, thankfully, but I'm definitely glad that didn't rupture at a restaurant table. Dammit, I'm 40 and greying yet I'm still getting the occasional screaming whitehead. Life ain't fair.
Dinner was delicious but a lot more effort than I'd planned for thanks to how the bird had been butchered and packed. I'll give them one more try at some point, just in case this was an unusual mispack, but they're on probation. The cavity of the bird retained the liquid fat too well, so I was having to tip the bird to pour out excess grease during the roasting and even then the stuffing turned out to be more of a pudding texture than a traditional bread stuffing. Flavourful as all heck, of course, but far more rich than intended. Also, the inner cavity was packed full so that even though the outer flesh was thoroughly thawed, there was solid ice inside. It took over an hour in a cold-water bath to get that ice out of the bird... nerve-wracking, and I'm just glad I didn't have a bunch of hungry guests waiting.
The hour came and I saw the fireworks on TV; no fireworks downtown here in London, ON, but one intrepid family in the subdivision behind me fired off a nice little display. I stayed up watching some of the post-countdown festivities in Niagara Falls and Toronto (no US coverage for me; couldn't bring in any American channels, so I didn't see Times Square) and then retired at about 12:30 or a bit after.
-- Steve has a rent cheque to drop off, but beyond that no obligations today. Tomorrow, alas, it's back to Koobikal Hel.
Last night was largely uneventful as I stayed in. I watched the countdown event at Niagara Falls, which was fun, and played through the first level in Mirror's Edge, which was fun but frustrating at times. (I blame the booze. It's misapplied blame, as I can be pretty cack-handed at platformers even when stone sober, but y'gotta find your excuses where you can...) I also watched The Dark Knight during dinner.
I did have one very minor medical crisis that would've been horribly embarrassing had I gone out; a monster zit had formed on my upper lip the night before, and just as I was leaving the roast duck out to rest it asploded on me. No contaminants into the meal, thankfully, but I'm definitely glad that didn't rupture at a restaurant table. Dammit, I'm 40 and greying yet I'm still getting the occasional screaming whitehead. Life ain't fair.
Dinner was delicious but a lot more effort than I'd planned for thanks to how the bird had been butchered and packed. I'll give them one more try at some point, just in case this was an unusual mispack, but they're on probation. The cavity of the bird retained the liquid fat too well, so I was having to tip the bird to pour out excess grease during the roasting and even then the stuffing turned out to be more of a pudding texture than a traditional bread stuffing. Flavourful as all heck, of course, but far more rich than intended. Also, the inner cavity was packed full so that even though the outer flesh was thoroughly thawed, there was solid ice inside. It took over an hour in a cold-water bath to get that ice out of the bird... nerve-wracking, and I'm just glad I didn't have a bunch of hungry guests waiting.
The hour came and I saw the fireworks on TV; no fireworks downtown here in London, ON, but one intrepid family in the subdivision behind me fired off a nice little display. I stayed up watching some of the post-countdown festivities in Niagara Falls and Toronto (no US coverage for me; couldn't bring in any American channels, so I didn't see Times Square) and then retired at about 12:30 or a bit after.
-- Steve has a rent cheque to drop off, but beyond that no obligations today. Tomorrow, alas, it's back to Koobikal Hel.