Fire Story

Okay, as some of you may already know, Hubby and I hosted an adult actual grown-up party for his management team this weekend. We shipped the kids off for TWO NIGHTS (thanks to G'ma and G'pa!) and had the whole weekend to be adults and grown-ups, and admittedly, a little lonely in our big, quiet house. But, we dealt.

Anyway, our very awesome, dear friend, who I have boasted about in the past on here, is a chef, and he catered our party, complete with his chef uniform and assistant (aka his sister, but she was dressed in the whole white/black and bow-tie ensemble so we were pretending to be really classy and elegant!)

Ha. Did we fool 'em or what?

So, here is a glance at the amazing menu and all the items served throughout the night:
~Candied Walnuts
~Cinnamon Star Anise Almonds
~Roasted Eggplant Dip
~Pesto Dip
~Cheesy Caramelized Onion Dip
~Various Breads

And then, the heavy appetizers:
Hors’Doeuvres
~Champagne Gelee with Pomegranate
~Smoked Salmon with Wild Caper and Mango in Radish Slice
~Foccacia Bites with Pine Nuts, Roasted Peppers, Tomatoes, Mushrooms
~Bacon Wrapped Dates with Chorizo
~Spoon of Risotto with Prosciutto
~Coconut Grilled Chicken in Lettuce
~Herb and Spice Smoked Sirloin with truffled Potato Crostini
~Crab Cakes with Citrus Aioli

Dessert
~Citrus Bars
~Chocolate Mousse Cake with Pistachio Crust
~Banana Bread Bites

So, the party is in full swing, I'm meeting these people who Hub works with every day, and liking them all, and their spouses too, which is always a plus. I had a few glasses of wine, but given the choice of getting drunk or eating all the food in sight, well, I took the high road and pigged out. Immensely.

As the night rolled on, we experienced the sequel to Wedding Crashers, but we had Party Crashers.

[Insert major sidenote, aka "we interrupt this blog post to give you something else to read"]

See, I guess I forgot to tell you all about how our friend in the 'hood stole back his Irish flag that his ex-brother-in-law's wife or somebody was in possession of. So, a conspiracy errupted a few nights before Christmas, while wine and Irish Coffees with tons of whip cream were flowing, and a getaway car (MINE!) was driven by a newly branded 16-year old licensed daughter of the neighbor who's flag was being waved at the ex-brother-in laws' whoever's house, and the original owner of said flag (aka Bagpipe Man) wanted it back.

Note: I had absolutely no participation in this initial flag heist.

Fast-forward to this past Friday night when Hub and I drove by our friend's home, and I see the stolen flag being displayed at the perpetrator's home, who apparently, rightfully owns this beautiful ode to his heritage.

So, what do I do? God, this admission thing is getting to be way too much. First I tell you how I am a Movie Hopper, and now I'm sharing the fact that I am a Flag-Stealer too!

Yes, I restole the stolen flag. I told Hub to stop the car, and that I was going to get the flag. I could not believe they were so openly displaying their goods. Their stolen goods, even though it originally belonged to them.

Did we go home with it? Of course not. We had to go over to the 'other' neighbor's house who was also in cahoots with the original thievery to show her our contraband.

So, flash-forward to Saturday night's adult party and I walk through our foyer and do a double-take when I see Bagpipe Man standing in the doorway. The look on my face said: YOU GOT ME. I STOLE THE FLAG. NOW COME ON IN AND HAVE A DRINK!

So, Bagpipe Man and Bagpipe Man's Wife willingly crashed our party, we brought out the flag and had a terrific time sharing the story of the twice stolen flag with Hub's coworkers.

And then one Irish guy broke out in complete Brogue and started singing nasty limericks that had words rhyming with Spunt and Spenis.

I guess about this time, some people are leaving, and one guest, still to be unnamed and not forthcoming, used the powder room. I had candles lit thoughout the house, and this one particulary had been glowing nicely since 7:00 p.m. It is now one in the morning.

Hub smells smoke. The second he smells smoke, an ear-piercing screeching, animals-are-dying sound rumbles through the house.

Our security system/fire alarm from ADT works! And quickly and loudly. The smoke smell is getting stronger, Hub spots the flames in the bathroom, tears the hanging hand towel from the wall hook, slams it into the sink and turns the water on full force.

Fire out. My hero.

The same time this is all happening, the phone is ringing, but I can barely hear it as the screaming alarm is still blaring and we have absolutely no idea how to turn it off. It's not like the smoke detectors you can pull the battery out. This one is an additional one where the security company calls you to make sure the house is really on fire.

Conversation:
Security Guy: We just got a signal that there's a fire.

I'm thinking, Cool! It really does work! All that extra money to protect us sure came in handy just now.

Me: Yes, but it's out now. It was a hand towel and my husband got the flames out.

SG: Do you need the fire department?

Me: NO!

SG: Okay, what is your passcode?

Me: Uhm... 6029?

SG: No, it's more like a name.

Me: Uhm... Diva?

SG: No. Five Letters.

Me: Tukey?

SG: No. More like a last name?

Me: Geeze, am I on one of those game shows or something? Can I pick a curtain at least?

SG: Can you tell me who's on your emergency call list?

Phew! I get this one right. Then I ramble off other stuff just to prove I'm who I am, and when I'm done reciting everything I know about anyone I've ever met, he finally believes me.

SG: Okay. Would you like to know your passcode?

Me: Yes! Please yes! Tell me.

SG: Okay. It's... are you ready?

Me: Yes! Tell me!

SG: Got a pen so you won't forget?

I run to get a pen and paper.

Me: Okay, I'm ready. What is my passcode?

SG: It's two words...

Me: Okay!

SG: Freaking Idiot.

Okay, did you laugh? Cuz that's not really my passcode, and when I typed that out, at first I thought it would be funny, and I almost used another F word in front of Idiot, but I decided not to. Now I can't tell if that was that funny or not. It was hilarious when I thought it up in my head.

Anyway, here is my thought. If I was really somebody setting fire to a house, and I wasn't really the person who lived there, do you think I'd be stupid enough to answer the phone of the home I'm arsonizing?

(I know that's not a real word, so no comments please, and also, no comments that it serves me right that my house almost burned down because I am not only a Movie Hopper but a Flag Stealer too, and I deserve to have my house burn to the ground.)

I'm out for now! I think I'm going to go play some Talking Heads...sing it with me folks...

"Burning down the house, mah house!"