Dan had the idea of building a photobooth for his grand party, so Friday night, after a trip to the Whitney, Brett and I headed back to his house to assist in the construction. Or rather, and despite our museum fatigue, Brett hit the ground running, being incredibly helpful and creative, while I kind of hung around, taking photos, generally getting in the way, running to the drugstore for push pins (to hang the drapery) then agreeing wholeheartedly with the plan to head to Black Mountain for dinner and drinks at 11pm.
The party itself went with a bang - lots of drink and good friends and dancing and squabbles over playlists (Christy Claire was rather put out that hers got turned off when Outkast came on), but you know there is the smallest chance I might have been getting my drunk on at the party - there was rather more of the booze and rather less of the food for me that day - so my memory gets a little hazy some time around midnight...
Luckily the photobooth, apart from being a great party game, is also a fabulous aide-memoire for those drunken occasions, so it was with amusement and trepidation we looked through the photos this (very hungover) evening...
Dan, me & CeceI'd like to plead the triple-vodka-and-cranberry defence to (hopefully) explain why half the shots I'm in I seem to be either trying to bite someone, or licking their neck.
Ahh parties. Open bars without having eaten anything. New York. <3
Ahh parties. Open bars without having eaten anything. New York. <3
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