Grazing like a gazelle at the holiday party

Feeling colicky, I stayed at home from work, the nearer (my god) to be to thee (the restroom). Louisa, if she's reading this, will probably blame my crap diet for my crapulous gut, but I know better: bacterial conspiracy, deliberate, clandestine, dangerous.

Before Jenna left for her day, I made a five-egg omelet with a small handful of shredded cheddar cheese, condimented by ketchup and Frank's per her preference. I ate less than half of this.

After a few hours of waxing and waning (bed-rest and sickness), I roused myself because, under the weather or not, I had to prepare for the party at night. I cleaned the house and prepared food, much of which I nibbled on in a small way during prep. The menu:

• turkey keilbasa pan-fried with garlic
• turkey keilbasa pan-fried with grape tomatoes
• cocktail meatballs, in a sweet-and-sour sauce made of ketchup and grape jelly
• crudité, consisting of cucumber, celery, baby carrots, and steamed green beans
• bruschetta of whole-wheat Triscuit crackers (rosemary, and black pepper flavors, I think I recall), with a topping of roasted diced tomatoes with vinegar, oil, sugar, salt, pepper, and herbs
• bean dip, of cannellini white beans, vinegar, olive oil, herbs, a bit of mayo, and a bit of horseradish cream sauce
• fillo cups with a filling of smashed white potatoes with broiled bacon, horseradish, and cheddar cheese
• baked ziti, with low-fat ricotta, an outofajar ragout with onions, peppers, and mushrooms, and shredded mozzarella
• brownies

There were cookies, of course -- dulche de leche and coco Maria cookies, generic sandwich cookies, some fudgey crisp graham cracker things Erin brought, the whole gamut -- as well as other nosh: caper berries, stuffed olives, cashews. A real colorful mish-mash it was. And much to drink; I stuck mostly to calimocho or plain diet cola. Jenna obstructed my plan to sneak a glass of low-fat eggnog. Horrid of her, I know, but people get crazy around the holidays, you know. Many sips of the open bottles were had -- a raspberry ale Ethan and Erin had brought, a muscadet from our own wine rack, whatever was being passed.

I didn't eat so much, really; just browsing throughout the evening. When I went to bed, I wasn't groaningly full (not like the day before, as I pushed away from the table, admitting defeat to my enchilada), but I still felt pleasingly decadent.