The house is warm.

The other day, P.I.C. says to me, "You need to have a reason to make those Swedish meatballs. Those are delicious. I crave them."

So I figure, LET'S HAVE A HOUSE-WARMING PARTY! We threw together a small gathering with some of our favorite friends (well, those that can hustle together on short notice) and had a wicked* good par-tay.

Turns out, "occasion for meatballs" just meant I should make them while we watch football on a Sunday. However, it is my personal belief that house-warming parties are way more fun.

Welcome to my life. One big fiesta.

The truth is, I look for nearly any reason to have a party. I love to make fun party foods. I love to have people over. This party was no exception. I got to make people martinis. While I do not LIKE dirty martinis, I love to make them. Shaking the cocktail shaker is one of my life's simplest pleasures. If you're my friend, odds are good, I will shake something up for you and serve it in a triangle-shaped glass. Dirty martini? You got it. How about my newest special sensation of a drink: Vodka plus cranberry juice plus pineapple juice. I call it "sunshine in glass." I also call it "Five-Oh." You know, like Hawaii Five-0? (I'm SO SMART.)

I am eating chips and salsa for "breakfast" at 1:00 p.m. P.I.C. brought me Coke in bed. WITH a bendy straw. I got up and had coffee with my Coke. And we watched The Hangover. Appropriate, yes? There is ONE clean glass in our entire apartment. I think the party was a success.

* For any folks from Boston reading this, do not be shaking your head thinking..."Oh no, she did NOT just say wicked! Midwestern girls cannot say that." Yes I can. And I will. Suck it, potential judgmental Boston readers. I am wicked awesome. It's a fact. WICKED.