My options for yesterday evening weren’t that bright:

Boyfriend was on a business trip to London, Schöner Mann didn’t call me back,
the only party scheduled was the one with the white hairs on my head, competing (and won!) with “L’Oréal Paris Excellent Creme Nr. 646.”

I could have ended up watching the whole ‘Twilight’ saga in a row, munching Pringles and feel pity for myself, if my friend Ton didn’t invite me over for
a drink, while he was preparing a dinner for four (not including me).

Ton is a man of calculation and perfection. If he is cooking for four, he probably counts the salvia leaves he is intending to scatter over his handmade pasta.
He will prepare the main course very precise (for four),
which will be served on his new table (fitting four) and (yes!) only four chairs,

so you will understand that I was feeling a little weird to crash the party.

I got over my doubts anyway and what had been planned as an intimate dinner for four, spontaneously turned into a “leg shooting party”, while the “lamb legs” took their excact 2,5 hours in the oven. We were all pretty wasted before the main course, sharing wine, laughter, camera, ideas, music, glasses, forks, plates, thoughts and in the very end the (*a*b*s*o*l*u*t*e*l*y) delicious food.
Turns out that sitting on a garbage bin (aka fifth chair) getting fed by friends with an extra spoon is actually the best thing to do on a Saturday night.

Will you please excuse me now, I have my very own hangover party to attend.

P.S.: Todays shoes are Lella Baldi