oh, so here was the party announcement that went out a few days ago:
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Paula Randler’s perfect room mates are passionately planning a preposterously paula-rific birthday par-tay.
The prerequisite will be dressing as a p word, any will do.
So pilfer your possessions, polish your pumps, pack your poetry . This will be the pinnacle of parties.
Saturday the 21st take the plunge. Forget the pre-game, party promptly at nine thirty.
Guaranteed to be a post professorial panacea! Ponder the potential!
Put on a poncho or plaid, there are a plethora of plausible possibilities, it’s your prerogative. Just don’t be a party pooper.
And please pony up and BYOB, but no presents for there is no place to put them.
Just picture it!
Kira and Abby
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oh, and here we are after buying our holloween costumes out of some ladies' apt. yah.
2 comments:
ok, so i'm a jerk. it's not so much that i forgot you birthday, but rather missed it. i actually knew it was your birthday on the day. but i was in atlanta and had limited access to email. it's a bad excuse, but it's for reals. happy (bleated) birthday! sounds like it was a blast.
no worries! also - i'm much fonder of a "bleated" birthday than an on-time one anyway...
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