not in our stars, but in ourselves
As I’ve mentioned, my boyfriend and I moved into a new apartment recently. Last night, we took advantage of the long weekend (thanks, unions!) to throw a little housewarming party. It went something like this:
We are not party people, so it was all rather exhausting to prepare and set up (for him, mostly, because he’s much more of a Doer and I’m much more of a Dreamer and Speculator and Observer and Procrastinator) – but we had fun.
We also had LOTS of alcohol, for which my liver is cursing me today. Oh, well. Below, see the (one) photo I took of two of the drinks on offer, which I did actually make:
I hear the sangria was good, although I only tried a little bit of it. I was much more taken by the gin punch – the recipe for which you can find here, if you’re thirsty. It’s very, very boozy. Be warned.
Anyway, thanks to our very generous friends, we now have a very fully stocked bar. To wit:
We sampled much of the above last night, and we also demolished a magnum of cava. As I said: my liver is mad. I’ve had the TV on since I woke up, as background noise more than anything, because I’m not especially able to focus on much right now. No movie reviews for me today. I will somehow scrape myself off the floor, and go to the gym, and sweat everything out, but in the meantime: oof.