...it's time to call it a day.
They've burst your pretty balloon and taken the moon away.
It's time to wind up the masquerade.
Just make your mind up the piper must be paid.
The Party's Over.
The candles ficker and dim.
You danced and dreamed through the night,
it seemed to be right just being with him.
Now you must wake up, all dreams must end.
Take off your make up, The Party's Over.
It's all over, my friend.
-Words by Betty Comden and Adolph Green and Music by Jule Styne
The party is indeed over, and my apt is in shambles. And there are well over 50 empty wine bottles scattered everywhere, like dead tin soldiers. The party was not the disaster I was hoping for. It was... fun. Perhaps my best one yet. Which forces me to consider that my usual complicated formulas to calculate personality mixes and so forth (which I did NOT employ with this party) might be completely unnecessary. Apparently all that is necessary is to stuff my little apt with as many people as it can hold and have lots and lots of booze available.
I will spray some anti-stain stuff on my sheepskin rug (red wine accident) and will wash my face, brush my teeth, and get into my most comfortable nightie.
I wish I could say that I'll fall asleep tonight, but I have the feeling that this is yet another night that the name of my blog will prove very appropriate.