Blogging away from home! It’s almost like having a Blackberry and being on Twitter all the time, although not as twattish. (I’m not being rude! Twattish is the adjective for `things which are overly Twitter-y.’) I’m writing this from a restaurant as my sister Kate is having a (small) party tonight, which means that in about an hour my house is going to be full of drunk 20 year old girls and, while this may sound fun to some, it really isn’t. (They make you play games like “I Have Never” and “Truth or Dare” and “Get in a sleeping bag and do the Worm across the carpet.”) When I left they had just returned from the liquor store with enough bottles of alcohol to keep a boatload of sailors going for a week of shore leave in Singapore, provided Singapore is on the coast (I have not got laptop set up for mobile wireless so cannot do usual rigorous fact-checks). One of them was talking about making punch. She held up a half-empty bottle of vodka, then pulled a face and said, “Not enough,” and that was when I left. By now they are probably dancing about to High School Musical 2 and making cocktails with names like Banodka Swirl! and Peach Bourbon Party!! and Barf By Midnight!!!
The worst cocktail I ever made – I have totally mentioned this before but people always repeat cautionary tales – was when I lived in Wellington and had a friend staying for the weekend (Katherine, it was you.) It was quite late – at least 7.30pm – and we had been making blended margaritas but had drunk all the margarita mix and tequila, and all we were left with was a small amount of vodka and a bottle of this awful cinnamon-flavoured thing called Aftershock. The main selling point was that it was hot and cold at the same time. This should have served as a warning but for some reason it seemed terribly risqué. Unfortunately the Aftershock was too risqué to be drunk by itself so one of us – it may have been me – came up with the idea of blending the vodka and Aftershock with some ice to make some kind of bastard margarita. Unfortunately we had run out of ice.
But all was not lost, because while we were in the freezer looking for ice we found a frozen banana!
Oh my God, it was revolting. It was like frozen baby food that burnt your mouth and made you burp hot & cold cinnamon. It was like a banana-flavoured frozen coke that had fermented and was kind of...gooey. Actually it was pretty much like vomit, but with a higher alcohol content. I think it is the only drink I’ve never finished because it was just that gross. I drank – or ate, you kind of had to use a spoon – more than Katherine, but we were both forced to admit defeat. I don’t even like banana.
I have decided that I might go back to the house and tell the kids it is delicious.
EDIT: I came home quietly but they found me and ambushed me and made me play some abominable game where one person is the arms and the other person is the body and you have to take a shot and apply lipstick and put on a onesie. GAAHHHHH
MORE EDIT: It is now the next morning and our house looks like a frat party has taken place. There are defrosted uncooked wedges on the bench and half a pizza with a huge bite taken out of it in the oven and banana vodka cream in the fridge. Why do people buy banana-flavoured alcohol? There is always one person who goes, "Ha ha, banana liqueur!" and then it sits in the cupboard for MONTHS until someone throws it out.