the best theme parties are ones thrown by smart folk, where the theme is obscure and semi-subjective, and where guests have absolutely no idea what the theme actually is, only that there is a theme, one that will inevitably result in strange attire all around. we just got so drunk that we didn't really give two shits. took a chunk out of the cauliflower in the bathroom; i have no idea.
after a day of laying around in bed recuperating from friday night, went to emma's for intern potluck. made spinach egg-drop soup, ate too much of too many things, celebrated christiania's thirty-nineth birthday, ended up building a fort in bryn's apartment.
i fucking love forts.
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