the party's over . . .

Music: Bloc Party: Intimacy (2008)

. . . and it feels like the day after Christmas when I was eight years old, but only worse. Halloween has really been my favorite holiday since the age of six. But today is sad. I just took His Danlicousness to the airport. And then there's a return to a healthy diet and working out again (both good things, but a weekend of naughtiness was really fun). And there's no NYE analog, just six more weeks of winter school and then enduring the adult Christmas. And you know adult Christmas is something more akin to a return to the primal scene for some of us, but that's another tale (stay tuned, I always blog about this when I get marooned in Georgia). Meanwhile, Friday's debauchery was captured on film; someone liberated me from my camera and took 300 photographs! I weeded out most of the condemning/embarrassing ones (I think)---at least of myself. Now, a break from partying until the end April, which, at my advanced age (according to my ugrads) is a good thing. I only pick up cigarette butts twice a year, thank you. Do I sound grumpy? Click the photo on the left for the gallery. And let me just say this is the most hilarious and endearing image of the evening ("Hrm, what are those two talking about . . . it's probably naughty . . . oh well").