I'm off home to get dressed for the night's shenanigans, a Christmas party in The Village. I'm one of the organisers so my nerves are already shot worrying whether or not people will show (I believe I've mentioned the great speed-dating disaster of '07) and my traditional remedy for stress involves vodka and/or gin, so it's going to be a fun night. There'll be music, fun, frolics and that delicious rap musician I bagged at Féile an Dóilín.
What could go wrong, right?
What could go wrong, right?
