Partying hard or hardly partying?

Party success!

I managed to sort everything in time. There was a great spread of food and drink and tons of people I hadn’t seen in ages walked through the door. Each was of course given a Spider Man valentine card, because I’d promised. A hug was also provided, because I was filled to the brim with cheer, culminating in a snuggly mood. I did my best to flit, because while I far prefer to just have good in depth conversations with guests, the reality was that I hadn’t seen most people in quite some time. There was zero way I’d be able to spend ages catching up and still see everyone. Fortunately I know a heap of interesting, clever people who entertained one another with interesting, clever things to say. If the goal is to create a massive family of friends who all know and like one another, yesterday was one giant leap towards it. The art corner I’d set up was well attended, with my wall now covered in all sorts of fun, colourful images. Interior decorating established.

People brought gifts, even though I’d protested they weren’t necessary. I’m now well stocked with alcohol, so I’ll be looking to pay things forward by having friends over to share. It seems the best possible way to enjoy responsibly and stave off death. Plus gives me incentive (like I needed that) to host friends. I enjoyed my Chocolate Manifesto last night, but for seemingly the first time in eons ended up enjoying a little too much. This morning was rough. I guess the absinthe and grain alcohol shots didn’t help, but how else was I supposed to celebrate the fact that I shared a birthday with Lil’ Jon other than engaging in some SHOTS SHOTS SHOTSHOTSHOTS? There’s something called proper decorum, my friends. Who am I to argue with that? My liver may have just groaned in remembrance. I spent the day in bed feeling fragile and embarrassed with an unfairly accommodating girlfriend.

Actually, drinking aside can I just raise a toast to her for the last few days especially? This gal helped me shop for party goods, aided the set up and brought cookies and fruit so we didn’t all perish from scurvy. She’s endured my family Skype calls with aplomb, meeting people half a world away and doing it with class and warmth. She’s indulged my constant childish antics and basically spent the whole weekend making me the happiest birthday boy in the world. When I passed out in the shower last night, she packed away all the food and made sure things ran smoothly. After everyone left she broke into the locked bathroom with the aid of a plastic card and took care of me, making sure I drank water, laughed through it and didn’t die. She wasn’t repulsed or put off by my frankly embarrassing and immature out-of-control state and even welcomed me back into bed early this morning. She stayed with me all day doing her best to minimise the pain of my overindulgence. If that isn’t love, then I’ve never met it. Love you Lioness.


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