It's a lame joke, but I'm running with it. Welcome to 2006 In Review: A Look Back. 2006 entered neither with a bang nor a whimper, but with the warm glow that comes from a decent meal and a two-fisted dessert selection, enjoyed in the company of kind and witty people. After eight consecutive New Year's Eves of sitting home cozily with Lloyd, watching one cartoon marathon or another until 11:59 p.m. (the notable exception being the roll into 2000, where I made quantities of steamed chicken buns, shu mai dumplings and and cold noodles, a fine but over-the-top way to celebrate, as Lloyd and I were the only attendees at dinner), I decided to start the year off with a little fellowship. The company, consisting of Bunni, Kiss Kiss, Rabid and Jeremiah, were not only kind and witty, but excellent sports: They traveled through sleet and wind on the drinkiest day of the year, only to find themselves sitting on chair cushions on our living room floor, since we don't have any of those nice accoutrements of grownup dinner parties like a dining room, or a kitchen table not covered with equipment. Not only did they hunker down on our floor, plates in laps, they also brought some very nice wine and two bottles of champagne of a vintage so fine that I'm wondering exactly what karmic debt I incurred in 2005 to deserve them, both the champagne and the friends. We ate (celery sticks and a Viennese cream cheese dip that, like 85% of my kitchen repertoire, comes from Laurie Colwin, as well as a spicy, moreish bean dip made by Bunni), we drank (beers in three shades! hefeweizen, apricot pale ale, stout, what'll you have?), we watched Invader Zim and The Dangerous Brothers, we ate some more (baked Smithfield ham, biscuits, coleslaw and the magnificent blackeyed-pea-and-rice New Year's Day staple known as hoppin' John), we drank some more (some of this nice Barbera d'Asti that Jeremiah brought? or the shiraz that Rabid brought? or would you like another beer?), we took a breather before moving on to the pecan pie and the cardamom-lime tea cake I made as a late birthday celebration for Bunni, we took a further breather before opening the champagne, we heckled the mayor for allowing "Auld Lang Syne" to be cut short in favor of "New York, New York." By 2 a.m. the festivities were over, our friends were sent home with leftovers, and Lloyd and I made our boozy, merry way to bed.
After such a festive beginning, the rest of the year progressed quietly but happily, in the form of a double feature of The Thin Man and The Trouble With Harry. I have decided that when I finally accept that I am a Middle-Aged Lady, I want to be just like Miss Ivy Gravely in The Trouble With Harry (played by the superb Mildred Natwick), wearing a different stunning blue housedress every day. Of course, it's much easier to dress like Miss Gravely if you have Edith Head to design your dresses, and I have it on good authority that Miss Head is done with the costume design racket. 
It has also been a day for leftovers, for contemplating the greatness of Smithfield ham and hoppin' John, for taking more baby steps into sock knitting, and for finishing the last of the champagne while sitting in a bath scented like a mimosa (the champagne and orange juice version, not the pretty flower version) and filled with glitter and stars. More will follow in the next few days, dear friends; maybe not about the bath, but about everything else. At the very least, I'm sure there are a good five or six thousand words in me about hoppin' John.