‘Dracula A.D. 2008’ is a Christmas fantasy with a wicked Gothic twist. It is a classic tale of seduction, terror, adventure and mystery and is set in one of London’s most historical and memorable landmarks. The Royal Courts of Justice is a Grade I listed Victorian building and is one of the last great wonders of Gothic revival architecture in England. With more than a century of history, over 1000 rooms and a 3½ mile labyrinth of hallways, one could be forgiven for thinking that it was the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s original fantasy.

So why not be bold, be brave and join Seasoned Events at the Royal Courts of Justice for a stylish and exclusive night with a little extra bite, as we put you under the seductive spell of Dracula. Escape city life for the night and revel in our dark tale of romance and adventure at this spectacular Victorian landmark.

As night falls, enter the dramatically lit Royal Courts and indulge on Champagne and Cham-bord cocktails as the charming host and his delectable bride welcome you to their party. Then enjoy a mouthwatering feast amongst friends under the magnificent vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall before dancing the night away. But beware, all is not quite as it seems. Seasoned Events have already sold 8 nights this December however there are still 5 key dates available, so contact the RCJ events team now and book a truly unforgettable Christmas party.

Santa’s not the only one coming to town this Christmas.

BOOK NOW ON 020 7947 7726

Once again, kudos to Kevin Connor for assembling a diverse crowd who was well-educated on the issue, and even more so for organizing an orderly, polite event. The demonstration got the point across with irony without being disruptive or disrespectful.

[where: 199 Bowery, New York, NY]

Like last night, we had a Christmas party here at our house. It's a Christmas party that we organize every year with some close friends. Unluckily, the one who got my name in our exchange gift was not present, so I did not receive my gift from him yet. But it's ok though.
We had guests; some came from different places and had overnight here in our house.

Well, I became the host of our mini program, of course. They were all laughing at my punchlines and jokes :D We had games with some prizes. The guys, I think they were a dozen, enjoyed drinking liquors outside and the others, enjoyed themselves talking with one another.

We also had a videoke where we sang all day and night. And they loved my voice... thank you very much :D

Of course, what is Christmas without foods? We had a lot of foods... yummmyy!!!
And a lot of gifts too! weeppee!

(but...)

In an hour, it will be Christmas again, but received few greetings from my friends (in text messages)
It'll be Christmas again but I think someone is getting mad at me. :(

Merry Christmas people! :D

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"It's Christmas vacation, but your madness does not take its vacation too."

"This is how our Christmas tree looks like. See the gifts?"
"

What are you thinking?

Santa's coming to kiss me.hehe

Not my boyfriend, okay? And her girlfriend's gonna kill me!

Again, Merry Christmas!

They were slightly difficult to attach to the glass, but worked in a pinch and looked really festive. If one had more time the wire ring could be changed to an actual wire beverage i.d. hoop.

There are no fancy clothes or fancy food and kids are definitely invited. At first the guests (especially the adults) might be shy about wearing their pajamas---but we insist. We sit around reading Christmas stories, drinking hot chocolate, sometimes we do a craft(decorating gingerbread houses and making gift tags are a favorite), and we eat a few simple snacks. It is such a special way to spend a cozy and relaxing evening with friends. We enjoy listening to our friends favorite Christmas books and as some of the children have gotten older they enjoy reading the stories also. I can't say enough about how special the evening is for us. It is a moment in this busy time of year to slow down and remember what the Season is about!

When we moved to Germany I met my dear friend Wendy who was also having these parties. Her sister Tara has written some wonderful invitations. I "borrow" these poems and then make a theme around the invite. This is one of my favorite, The Polar Express.

We would like for you to join us for

a Christmas tale

We'll gather for a story about a

little sleigh bell

We'll be in our pajamas so that's

how you should dress

All aboard headed north on the

Polar Express

Your time and date

Please bring your favorite Christmas

story to read!

Invitations can be made by layering holiday papers and adding a jingle bell at the top

The best thing is we can always elaborate on the theme and change it up. Next time I use this I want to make jingle bell wreaths. Family Fun has cute jingle bell bracelets to make. The possibilities are endless. Party favors would be cute sent home in a bag clipped with this jingle bell clip.

So warm up some hot chocolate and invite some friends over and relax and enjoy some special family time. A sweet little 4 year old said it was the best party she had ever been to. Now that is a pretty good endorsement when you have been to a "princess" party before!

Friday 21st December - Closing at 12.30pm for Staff Christmas Lunch
Monday 24th December – 9.00am – 12.00pm
25th & 26th December –Closed
Friday 28th December – 9.00 – 12.00pm
Monday 31st December – 9.00 – 12.00pm
1st January – Closed HAPPY NEW YEAR
Tuesday 2nd January 2008 -9.00 – 5.30pm

An emergency mobile number will be available throughout

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They served some 120,000 White House Christmas Party guests at 23 holiday events, and now the residence staff is getting a party of its own—and it's the president's staff that will do the serving. ...

According to the White House, the following staff members will serve the residence staff, including ushers, cooks, and others, during the party tonight: ... Jim Nussle, director, Office of Management and Budget

We had the library holiday party today with trays of lasagna, empanadas, latkas, and salad, with a table of desserts. Musical entertainment was courtesy of Habeas Chorus, a law school singing group. But the main focus was food. There's another party tomorrow, this time the campus-wide library party. And another one on Friday with a law school staff lunch.

Oh yeah, and we go out for an Indian buffet lunch on Thursday to hear about our colleagues' trip to Mumbai for a conference. It's topical and I'm sure it will be tasty but it's just more food.

It will be a relief to get to the weekend. For me, the parties will be over. I'm not going away or even out for Christmas dinner and can pretty much control what I have in the house so it includes something beyond the Sugar and Chocolate food groups. Not that there's anything wrong with them. But too much of a good thing is still too much.

I have my WW weigh in tomorrow and it's not going to be pretty. I've managed to be reasonable about at least one meal a day but other than that have been grazing and eating comfort food. Though actually when I look at it, it could have been more out of control. Carrot cake pancakes at IHOP still had sugar free syrup. Only a small meatball sub and not a whole one. Slow churned peppermint ice cream instead of the full stuff. Lots of water. Light popcorn. Reduced fat cookies.

I have learned some things and I refuse to binge the way I used to. It's too much physically and emotionally and I'm happy to see and know that I really have moved forward even though sometimes it just feels as though I'm in a spiral.

Losing weight this month is not a goal, an expectation, or practical reality. It's not gonna happen and I don't care; that isn't the "winning outcome" I decided for myself. This particular week is the worst for me in terms of situational temptation and as soon as it's over, I will get back to my regular routine with a sense of relief. Part of that will be going to WW the day after Christmas to get the week behind me and starting fresh.

I love that about my weekly weigh in. Oh, I don't always like the number on the scale but I go and get on the scale anyway. Staying away in paralyzing fear of what it will show doesn't help me change my eating patterns as much as just hopping on and off, and starting fresh the next day. The scale gives me a number, feedback not judgment, and I really can just move on. It's taken me a long time to get here but it's a healthy place to be. Even the week before Christmas.

Tallulah’s teacher, in her infinite wisdom had decided that nothing could be easier for the infant class than to hold a pyjama party.  Now this would be fairly straightforward if they were to actually go to school in their pyjamas and come back again clad in their pyjamas, but no.  Someone from on high has decreed that it would be unacceptable to have small children wandering around in their night attire all day, so we had to send them to school in their uniform with a bag containing their nightwear.

I don't understand this at all.  Why can't the children go to school in their pyjamas?  It's not like they're modelling for Damart, or even Victoria's Secret for goodness sake.  Any sick pervert who has a mind to find small children attractive isn't exactly going to be making a list of fashion do's and don'ts are they?  And children's pyjamas are not particularly ravishing at the best of times.

In my day they were usually baggy, a bit grey round the edges and the elastic had invariably gone due to them being third hand cast offs from your cousin's auntie's best friend.  This meant that you were forever hitching them up to stop them falling down round your ankles and killing you as you shuffled to the toilet in the night, but because they were usually at least three years old they would also be way too short and make you look like the extra member of Star Trek who was about to be killed at any moment when you did pull them up.

Perhaps it was a health and safety issue.  Most kids nightwear tends to be made out of nylon and petroleum derivatives with frills on.  Maybe they're afraid that if they run round in them all day, the chafing of the material against each other will cause the entire infant year to spontaneously combust, and the parents will go to pick them up to be confronted with a lot of ash and some shrivelled up bits of Barbie's head.  That's more like it.  They just don't want to start a fund for a memorial garden.

Now I thought this idea was lunatic when it was first launched, and sadly I was proved right. The teacher is a lovely woman, the kids all adore her, and she is brilliant at her job, but this is her first job, she is young and she has no children of her own.  She is a complete novice at the dressing and undressing of small children, and will never make this mistake again in her entire school career.

Mind you, you think she would have learned by now, having had to supervise an entire term’s worth of p.e. classes how hard it is to get small kids in and out of complex clothing combinations in a short space of time without a chair, a whip and a staple gun, but somehow she hadn’t joined the dots. 

Consequently there was her and two teaching assistants manfully trying to coerce thirty five small children into changing into their various night apparel whilst at the same time making sure their modesty remained intact by keeping their pants firmly on, and ensuring that they all retained the vital bits of school uniform that they came with.  This is not as easy as it sounds. 

Some children will be roaring their eyes out before they've even taken their cardigans off.  Others will have stripped naked in the first thirty seconds and be running round the classroom making aeroplane noises and showing everyone how far they can stretch their willy if they pull it like this, and the rest will be climbing in and out of their and everyone elses' clothes with gay abandon.  In the middle of this someone will undoubtedly have wet their pants and have to have the nasty, grey emergency ones out of the bottom of the lost property box, causing another round of weeping and wailing, and someone will have lost a small boy called Matthew completely and spend the rest of the afternoon looking for him, only to find him asleep in the Home Corner just after the police have been called.

The changing room is not so much a room as a corridor made for midgets with hundreds of pegs attached to the wall.  It is drafty, difficult to access and right by the toilets.  It’s bad enough going in in the morning, and we have fifteen minutes of leeway to get them there and at least one adult per child.  It must have been sheer hell this afternoon. 

Then they filled them full of sugar, introduced them to Santa (who Tallulah informs me, is the real santa, and not like that pretend one at the Christmas fayre), and played raucous games with them until ten minutes before home time when they made the foolish mistake of expecting them all to be able to clamber easily back into their uniforms. 

Naturally this did not even come close to happening.  It all went a bit Pete Tong, and when the bell rang, the kids streamed out en masse, sweeping the teacher up in the melee, who was last seen wandering round in her dressing gown wondering what her life had come to (welcome to my world!).  

Now I had been quite clever, and actually sent Tallulah to school in sensible pyjamas made of winceyette with long sleeves and stout buttons, proper, fierce pyjamas.  Other parents who had not thought this through had sent their children in shorts and t-shirts and the pyjama equivalent of bikinis, and are now reaping the whirlwind, trying to change their clothes in the shelter of the hedgerow, or having to hit their frozen forms with a shovel when they get them home frostbitten up to the elbows. 

Now, it was not my turn to pick them up this evening, so I managed to avoid a first hand experience of this hell.  Their dad is back from Thailand, and he is bravely taking them ice-skating in the outdoor ice rink in Nottingham this evening as a special treat.  I know about the bedlam because he turned up on the door step ten minutes ago asking if they could come in and change before they set off.  Even the stoutest of pyjamas are not the sort of thing one should set about ice skating in.  Nobody saw Torville and Dean practicing Bolero in Spiderman pyjamas now did they? 

Now you do have to be careful what you wear when you go ice skating you know.  I once had a terrible mishap at an ice rink in Solihull which has haunted me for the rest of my days.  I was fifteen and went with a bunch of friends on a coach trip for this wonderful treat.  We got there early and were all booted up, but waiting to go on the ice.  There was the end of an ice hockey practice match going on and we clustered round the barriers to watch.

Around the sides of the rink above the barriers, was some netting which was supposed to stop the puck flying off the rink and out into the audience, killing innocent bystanders.  A good idea I'm sure you will agree.  There we were leaning, leaning, going 'ooh!' and 'aaah!' at the speed and dexterity of the hockey players.  There we were leaning, leaning as they skated off, mad with excitement because it would be our turn on the ice next.

There I was, being dragged round the rink and off my feet into the air, because my coat button had got caught in the protective netting, and it was now being drawn up mechanically into the ceiling so we could all get on the ice.  Nightmare!  I was dangling with my boot tips just touching the floor, slowly being garrotted by a giant fishing net while my friends rolled around on the floor wetting their pants laughing.  I couldn't do anything to help myself because I had no leverage by which I could unhook myself, so I just had to wait until they realised that the netting wasn't ascending ceilingward and someone came to unhook me.  I still dream about it occasionally when I'm not dreaming about pop stars and psycho killers.

Tilly didn’t have a pyjama party, which is good, as she is the queen of inappropriate clothing choices, and would no doubt have chosen to go in an assortment of sequins held together with masking tape and tinsel.  She once had hysterics because I wouldn’t let her go to a funeral tea wearing an angel costume (even I thought it was a bit much.  If it had been my funeral fair play, but the other mourners would have been a bit upset.  Better than going as the grim reaper I suppose), and her idea of warm clothing is a hat (just a hat). 

Her favourite ensemble as a two year old was red Wellingtons, a nappy, a Dr. Seuss ‘One Fish Two Fish’ t-shirt and a cape.  She wore that for about six months solidly.  After that she was a nudist for about three years.  In fact my friend’s mother asked me if she went to nursery naked as she had never actually seen her wear clothes.  When she did deign to get dressed during the wilderness years she would only wear pink and only wear skirts or dresses.  Apparently everything else was for boys, even socks, and especially jeans.  I pointed out that I wore socks and jeans, and she just looked at me, sighed and said: ‘Yes mama, but you are very old!’ which seems to be the theme tune of my life at the moment.

This was the time in her life when she was so obsessed by Scooby Doo that she also changed her name to Daphne and refused to answer to Tilly at all.  She was madly in love with Fred (I've always thought he was gay, but I didn't like to mention it to her).  It was a dificult phase, which she moved out of into her next difficult phase.  Apparently my mother tells me she should stop having difficult phases when she gets to be about thirty.  I look forward to it.

This changing name thing must run in the family.  Tallulah went through a time when she insisted that we call her Rose Episode (her name for Billy Piper in Doctor Who - because she used to ask: 'Is this a Rose episode?' as oppose to a Martha episode), and wouldn't speak to me for a week because I didn't have the foresight to christen her Rose.  My cousin Tom (Wizard) also went through such a phase, although he didn't want to be called Rose, thank goodness.

He developed a deep passion for tractors at about the age of three, and decided that he was going to have his own 'beast yard'.  The man who lived down the road had a 'beast yard', which is what he called his cattle farm, and Tom was extremely impressed.  He was so impressed that he followed him about everywhere, and changed his name to Derek in emulation of his hero. He refused to speak to you at all if you called him Tom, but was very cheerful and accommodating if you called him Derek, as long as you wanted to talk about tractors or beasts.  Otherwise, no dice!

Anyway, Tilly's party was a regular one, but we had to provide food.  Tilly had volunteered to provide sandwiches, much to my chagrin, as I was rather hoping for a bumper pack of Hula Hoops and some Party Rings.  We couldn't make them last night, or they would have been too curly, and the only thing worse than curly sandwiches is soggy sandwiches.  She decided that jam sandwiches were the way forward, and so we spent our extra half an hour this morning up to our knees in butter, jam and crumbs.

She is messy at the best of times, and this as Dickens would agree was the worst of times.  She was stuck up to the eyeballs within two minutes of getting the jam lid off, and I spent twenty minutes after I'd got home from school this morning unwelding jam off of the chair legs with Oscar's expert help.  There were crumbs everywhere, because not only had she decided on jam as a filling, but she'd also decided that these sandwiches must be cut into festive shapes using pastry cutters.

I confess that after ten minutes I actually went and hid upstairs with a cup of coffee because I had lost the will to live.  Tallulah and Oscar were under the kitchen table fighting over an angel cutter and Tilly was using half a loaf to make one small star shaped sandwich which not only stuck to every available surface, but looked about as much like a star as I do.  There were jammy crusts everywhere, and Oscar had to have his hair washed and a clean pair of socks put on before we went out.

Eventually we exited, pursued by a bear (not really.  I just felt a bit Shakespearean.  More like some wasps with the amount of jam around) and one plate of hairy jam sandwiches badly wrapped in clingfilm.  She was charged with not dropping them before we got to school but nearly lost everything when she tried to wave at the lollipop lady going round a difficult bend.  I despair of ever getting that plate back in one piece.  Although no doubt Tilly would find a way to glue it together with the remains of the jam.  She is very creative.

My mum came round to see me today.  Apart from our emergency meeting at the hospital last week, we haven't seen each other for ages, and it was lovely to have a coffee with only one child in tow.  Oscar loves his granny passionately and smothered her with spitty kisses whilst trying to shove half a chewed malted milk biscuit down her cleavage to show her how much he had missed her.  I don't know if his undying affection is a blessing or a curse.

Mum tells me that dad has got his Christmas recipe obssession going again this year.  This is a great worry.  My dad is a terrible cook.  His signature dish is cheese and potato pie, which should say everything.  It's a bad day back at the ranch when he tells me he's cooking cheese and potato pie.  It's usually code for the fact that my mum has torn a strip off of him for not doing enough around the house, and he's trying to avoid being evicted in favour of a younger model.

The only exception to the classic cheese and potato pie dish is his Christmas extravaganza.  I don't know whether it's the smell of pine needles that sets him off, but it's generally about this time of year that he suddenly decides that he has latent cheffing abilities which need bringing to the surface with a fantastic recipe that will wow us all.  With this he will silence his cheese and potato pie critics for eternity and a new star will be born.

This year apparently it's the ginger ham he saw on Nigella Express last week.  Now I'm a big fan of Nigella, and her cakes and biscuits are a lifeline in our house, but if she is responsible for the break up of my parents' marriage I will be writing to her and giving her custody of my dad, so you have been warned!

Apparently, to make this festive ham you need seven litres of ginger beer in which you boil your ham for at least a week, and voila, gingery ham.  My dad set out on a mission today to purchase the ginger beer.  I asked if they had a saucepan big enough for this quantity of ale, to which my mother replied: 'I have no idea'.  I asked if it would fit in the oven even if they did, to which my mother replied: 'I have no idea'.  I get the feeling she's just humouring him.  She may even be secretly wishing that he will blow himself to kingdom come as his seven litres of fizzy pop reach an unfeasibly high temperature and explode all over the kitchen.

My dad however, will probably be fine and it will be my mum who is scraping caramelized ginger pig off of the ceiling for the next twelve months until he has another culinary brainwave.  Either that or she'll be out in the garden digging a roasting pit, a la Heston Blumenthal, while my dad watches from the verandah, because of his bad back you understand!

Jason, as an aside, has banned me from having the new Heston Blumenthal book, because he's too afraid that he will come home to find that Oscar and I have dismantled the Dyson to make a chapatti oven or some such nonsense.  I feel deprived, but that he also has a good point!

I expect my dad's ginger pig to be a huge disaster.  I am not being unfair here.  I'm just going on his past track record.  He made pork pie one year.  It looked lovely (as lovely as pork pie can, which I hate), but was entirely raw from the pastry case inwards.  He made lamb curry another time.  It took three days to cook and tasted like wood chip wall paper with dead dog in it.  He has also made chutney.  I never found out how that tasted because it looked so evil it stayed in the jar and was avoided by everyone round the Christmas table like he had presented them with home made pooh in a dish.

I can well and truly say that the joys of the festive season are truly upon us.  I am now going to worry about what I am going to cook for tea, and try not to think about the children slicing their hands off or biting their own tongues out in the name of ice skating glory.

For six years now we have hosted "Breakfast with Santa" for our son's basketball team. 

I try to make it look special from candles on the table to hanging stars from the chandelier.

I hot glued three candy canes together to make an easel to hold each of the boys names for place-cards.  We drink hot coca out of Santa mugs and I let these rowdy boys use the fine china for such a special occasion!

We eat pancakes, bacon and sausage ------and a few snowman doughnuts. Mini powder sugar doughnuts with a candy corn nose and candy eyes (from the cake decorating store).

Usually we make a craft but this year I couldn't resist playing "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader" with these fifth grade boys.  Santa graciously agreed!

Santa takes a photo with each boy

Hands out a small gift to each boy

In the past Santa has read "Twas the Night Before Christmas."  This year Santa was so fabulous he said the entire poem from memory.  He also reminded the boys how lucky they were, to be good, listen to their moms (thank you Santa) and remember those who don't have as much. 

I'm thankful these boys still go along and just lose themselves in the magic of the morning!

Went to Rayray's Christmas work party....it was so hilarious and so much fun.  Imagine Creed Braton from "The Office" in a break dancing contest.  Everyone got in a circle and watched these different men do whatever they could fathom on the dance floor.   It was so much fun, I laughed so hard that I almost coughed up a lung.

When I got home, I was ready to retire to my bed and watch a good movie....until...Amir called me from outside my apartment and insisted that I go out w/ him, Ricky, and Majid.  We went to The Drake and it was just too packed.  Amir doesn't like to go anywhere where he is not treated like royalty....these boys have alot of money and have become spoiled by how they get treated when they buy bottles everytime they go out.  So....off we went to Zeppelin Lounge....which is really nice because we get walked in with a hostess extraordinare, Jami....then we went up to VIP and had a table waiting for us.  The place was super packed....almost too packed so it was nice to have a secluded table.  Sometimes VIP sucks though b/c you can't really socialize w/ "everyone".   Anywhoo....the music was good and the crowd was nice as well.  The boys dropped me off around 2 am....and I crashed.

This morning I woke up @ 8am...no hangover and no side effects....I guess my tolerance has gone up or I just didn't drink that much, but I really didn't even catch a buzz last night.....which is good for a change ;)

Tonight is the VTG christmas party....they usually are alot of fun, so I'm looking forward to it.  This would be Eddie's and Jonathan's first time @ the christmas party, but they got snowed in, in Boston.  Sucks! It'll be cool b/c my friends Nora and Trish will be there....it's nice to have friends @ work that I'm friends w/ outside of work.  

The Leyte Provincial Government had its huge Christmas party dubbed, "Pasko Ha Kapitolyo" at the Leyte Academic Center at Candahug, Palo, Leyte last Friday, December 14, 2007. It was your typical let-your-hair-down office party, complete with dance contests, raffle and the like.

Gov. Jericho "Icot" Petilla delivers the good news: Christmas surprise gifts for provincial government employees.

View the photo gallery.

Last night I decided to hang with the boys like old times.   I needed a break from the craziness....we went to Zeppelin Lounge and had a blast.  The crowd didn't pick up till around midnight but it was a rainy night so that's to be expected.  So....in conclusion to my drunk blog from last night....I ran into my Mr. McDreamy....he's a cutie that gets me excited just by looking at him.  He's not the hottest of guys but just his charming demeanor and something about him always gets me.  Anywhoo....I hugged him and said hi when I saw him....that was about it.  I wasn't in the mood to put out the vibe...ahah!

Tonight I'm going to Rayray's Christmas party @ The Magnolia....I bought the cutest hot pink dress this morning.  I don't think I'm gonna go out after....I kinda just wanna come back home and watch a movie and relax.   My office Christmas party is tomorrow @ The Hilton so I don't want to overdo it.  I love office Christmas parties b/c the food is always good, drinks are free, and the big wigs let loose....

Since this blog is meant to be my happy place, I've decided instead to focus on some of the good things that happened during the same period and helped to pull me out of my bad mood.  (Credit for the title and subject of this post goes of course, to this fabulous blogger.) 

My Three Beautiful Things:

1. My new desktop wallpaper - that my son made for me.  Everytime i boot up either my work or home computer and this pic appears, it just makes me smile.

2.  The Golden Compass - My neighbour stopped by the day before my birthday and surprised me with a beautifully wrapped gift of the book His Dark Materials, a trilogy by Philip Pullman.  So far, it's been a fabulously, enjoyable read along the lines of the Tales of Narnia or Harry Potter - meant for kids but great for adults as well.

I've just finished The Golden Compass, the first novel of the trilogy.  It's currently in theatres and i'm now really looking forward to seeing it over the Christmas break.  You can view the trailer here.

3.  Christmas Parties - I'm on my third so far for the season.  I don't think it's physically possible for anyone to stay in a bad mood after basking in the glow of a few of these... I love Christmas.

Santa came to the party, of course.  And in true style, he roared up on a Harley.  It was priceless.  Almost as priceless as this:

Yes, that is my very own dutchkid and her darling daddy, she howled from the moment we even suggested she might go near Santa.  Please excuse the rotten photo quality, in true absent-minded mama style I forgot my camera.   Poor traumatized baby.   Good thing I chose a different picture for the Christmas cards this year.   All in all, it was good fun, but I am beat!

This year I am making a turkey, which sounds impressive but really isn't that hard, and also I'm lending my Christmas lights and helping decorate. Easy peasy. I'm not doing lights on my house this year, I decided to go for that quiet peaceful look with candles in the windows. Maybe it will lend me some of the peace that always seems to be missing from my holiday season.

I’m not sure if my latenik-i-ness stems from experience, or if it’s just because I’m busier than I used to be.  But it must be overcome at all costs.  The best party is a well planned one.

The urge to procrastinate planning your party may be because you feel like it will be to big a project.   To that I must say, simplify!  Are you thinking that you must serve a homemade hand-carved prime rib, or it just won’t be Christmas?  How about ordering that roast pre-cooked from a local gourmet shop like Bristol Farms (or whatever is in your area)?

Do you feel that you are simply too busy to plan it out?  You may be surprised that it probably won’t take as long as you think it will.  Sit down one evening after everyone else is in bed, and grab a cocktail, your most trusted cookbooks, some sticky notes and a notepad. 

First, take a sip and decide on a theme.  Don’t make it too complex:  Italian, retro, whatever.  Just something that can unify your choices.  If you have several cookbooks in a particular style, sit down with those, instead of the one Indian book you have.  Having a lot of choices will be helpful – you won’t feel stuck with anything, and will have a bit more freedom.

Second, take a swig, and decide whether you want to serve all appetizers and tapas, or whether you want to serve the components of a proper meal (such as salad, veg, a starch, a meat or vegetarian entrée, and a dessert.  (I never do a sit down meal for a large party.  It just doesn’t work for me.)  I like a mix – meal components, tapas style.  Everything bite size.

Next, start flipping through your books and tagging anything that looks good.  Don’t filer it.

Now, look again at the tagged items.   

• Remove anything that takes more than a day to prepare. 
• Remove anything that doesn’t have at least one make ahead component. 
• If you have marked items that use many of the same ingredients (3 kinds of cheese puffs, for example), choose one, and remove the rest.
• Remove anything that requires a knife to eat, if you are not having a seated meal, and people will be eating and roaming, cocktail style.

You should now have a variety of items that should nicely make up your meal.  I like to make sometimes 10 to 12 items.  I don’t recommend this, unless you thrive on driving yourself nuts.

Sending invitations is the one thing you really shouldn’t procrastinate on.  They must be sent at least 3 weeks in advance.  Make inviting everyone easy on yourself.  If you have everyone’s mail address, use a service like Evite.  If you mainly have mailing addresses, don’t make extra work for yourself by gathering everyone’s email address.  Order inexpensive pre-printed invitations online, and mail them out.  Some services will even do the mailings for you for a fee, if you provide a mailing list.  For my parties, I order pre-printed invitations, and have my guest list saved in Microsoft Word in label format.  It’s the best of both worlds.  (I prefer snail mail invitations to Evites for my own parties.  I think it’s great to receive party invitations by mail; it makes it a little more special, in my opinion.)

I think that’s it for now.  I’m off to order my Christmas party invitations…