My roommates and I had a fabulous housewarming party last night. It allegedly went till after 4am, but I was tired and am a deep sleeper (read: am far geekier than my two roommates) so I did not witness the last couple hours. In my defense, I've been on those notorious party drugs, Sudafed and Tylenol, the last few days, so my stamina was not what it might have been. But it was quite incredible how many people showed up, despite the rain and the mysterious disappearance of the 2-3 train on weekends.
I wanted to take pictures--not so much to document the party itself as to show how cool our supermarket-special posters look under the glow of pink Christmas-tree lights--but my camera batteries refuse to charge. But, to report, ala NY Social Diary, among the guests were a surprisingly large number of Jewish day school graduates; a not surprisingly large number of Stuyvesant graduates; many of Katherine's co-workers; the couple who kindly lost interest in their couch right after we moved down the block from them; and a guy named Boris, whose presence prompted Katherine and Masha to tell me this morning how that name is actually pronounced in Russian (Boh-REECE, no?). There were two Borises in my high school homeroom, so having this knowledge earlier might have come in handy.
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