...was a smashing success. Everyone that Shavaun and I hoped for showed up (plus some!), wine and beer and tequila (and pomegranate liqueur) flowed, two delicious cakes were eaten (Lemon sponge with lemon glaze, and Dark Chocolate Black Forest Gateau), Shavaun didn't make it out the bar (something about her legs not cooperating with her brain?), and I went into the kitchen the next morning to find muddyPublish Post footprints all over the linoleum (water fight), an empty tequila bottle, and a large knife sticking straight out of the one piece of cake that was left.
I met with up friends from undergrad (oh how nice it is to think about undergrad in the past tense!) the next day, and we got tipsy on the most delicious cider before 5 pm, then went to a Tattoo at Fort Henry, then went to the Grizzly Grill for some overpriced drinks and dancing. To finish the weekend off right, I worked for 9hrs on Sunday. That wasn't the most fun thing I have ever done, but it was nothing compared to the anticlimactic week of packing and trying to tie up loose ends that I had after that. Moving out of my sublet was surprisingly easy, all things considered - probably because I've been so successful at parting with a lot of my junk. It was the parting with friends that sucked the big one.
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