Dishes

The most bizarre thing happened last night post-dinner party.

D invited his friend S over after they dined together at one of the many many many Thai restaurants in Hell's Kitchen (D didn't want to be around for the "Estrofest") in an attempt to surreptitiously set S up with my friend M. S stayed after The Photography Gals left, and for some reason started to wash the dishes. I didn't stop him, but I kept asking him "Why are you doing the dishes? I didn't even make you dinner!" and he said "I don't know... I just feel like I should be doing something."

There were millions of dishes.

And S washed most of them.

Granted, he washed some of them with hand soap, but who am I to complain?

We had a great time. The Photography Gals loved the apartment. We ate breads and fruits and cheeses. The dinner itself was miraculous. They are now under the false impression that I can cook.

I went against my upbringing and heritage for this dinner party and made the appropriate amount of food, rather than defaulting to Italian and preparing enough food for 40 people when only 4 would be in attendance. I bought enough food for possibly five people so that D could have some. M's sister ended up coming at the last minute so I had to ask D and S to go out for dinner, which worked out well because I got to have quality time with The Gals. I am the worst girlfriend ever, however, as I completely forgot to save him food despite his actually asking.

D always asks what I could possibly be talking about for hours upon hours when I hang out with my girlfriends. He always jokes "Did you talk about your periods? Birth control? Boys?"

We were, of course, talking about birth control methods last night when D and S walked in after their boy dinner. We promptly changed the subject to Dawson's Creek when they appeared, and then went back to the wonders of the patch when they left to drink on the roof.

The Gals and I talked about assertiveness and drama and the future and career changes and the importance of communication and birth control and Orthodoxy and photography and travels and my dream about Al Gore and another dream I had last week about our photography teacher. Ew.

The Gals left at about 11:15. They weren't in the mood for drinking, for some reason, but I was. M and B each had about half a glass and I had the remainder of the bottle. I was drinking and giggly while S washed dishes. I out on a Method Man / Redman CD and hosted a mini Monday night dance party since S and I have only D and hip hop in common. I am a fan of S's but had never had the opportunity to really spend time with him until last night, so hopefully now we can be friends instead of just friendly.

I went to bed with the spins and woke up with a stomach ache. D brilliantly suggested that we both take preemptive Advils last night before going to bed so things could be much worse. I'm a bit tired but not as much as I should be after having gotten only five hours of drunk sleep.

Tonight I plan to, gasp, exercise and catch up on Netflix and catch up with Father, for whom I had to leave a message on Father's Day. And then I will blissfully go to bed early! Ooo! I can't wait for tonight!