I took a photograph earlier to see how many party-goers I could catch in frame at once. The answer is apparently seventeen, and that was merely the livingroom. (We are cuddly people and comfortable with one another). In one respect, I was reminded of SinCity; I forget, occasionally, that it’s possible for me to know that many people in one place. There are names and faces realigned, assigned to people again. I have a bad habit of making more of an impression on people than I receive due to the sheer number of people I encounter. The wedding on Saturday should be a bit of an adventure. I was informed that I am no longer to walk the aisle with Kalev, as we would be too likely to scheme some amusing joke if left to our own devices together, such as skipping down the aisle or creating a make-shift explosive bouquet.
I also forget just how much girly, therefore drinkable, alcohol arrives with Jenn‘s guests. There was holy hand grenade liquer, (a thick raspberry mystery), and Angus handed me something from his utili-kilt that tasted like cinnamon hearts. As an example of just how many strange drinks must have been mixed, let me just say that at one point Anthony was on his knees extracting Navi’s brassiere from inside Matthew’s pants with his teeth and they were the sober people.
It seems that there’s a party tomorrow night as well and hints that Saturday’s wedding may bleed into Sunday Tea, (this week held at Derek‘s place), so for all the odd clothing and strange ritualized behaviour upcoming, this is looking to be a pleasantly sleepless four day weekend. At this point, I’m hoping that people will remind me to insert food, because looking from here to then? I already know I’m going to forget.