the corruptorI knew last night would be awkward. But knowing in advance always helps. As does having a Martin around. Am unbelievably grateful that he was there too! So, Friya’s party. We all met up at the Bagatti’s and once Sophie had finished inadvertantly insulting Lily (greeting her with, “have you shrunk?” and later trying to make up for it with, “no, that’s not what I mean. I just meant…you’re really short.”) we escaped inside and away from the rather cold night. Friya was wearing a stunning miniskirt though it did make me feel a little cold just looking at her. Inside, i started to relax, arguably aided by half a bottle of white wine and a whisky. Conversation flowed easily enough (again, aided by an already intoxicated Martin) and presents added a little spark too.

martin and friyaHaving discovered the wonderful all-purpose giftness of baked beans, I couldn’t resist being creative again. The result was a personalised Gap Year Survival Kit for Friya which consisted primarily of Viennese Thornton’s chocolate bars (the staple self-indulgent food of any good gap year). The prerequisite 2 tins of baked beans were present, of course, coupled with dental floss, a pepper grinder, 20 plastic spoons, 50 tissues, and most importantly a carrot. With a bow. If you wish to know the purpose of any of these (surely they’re self-explanitory!?) just ask me. Or better yet, just make “carrot” references to Friya.

tipsy shirazBack to hers afterwards and we crashed on sofas while Martin mixed cocktails. Woo-Woo was the drink of the night (1 part peach schnapps, 1 part vodka, mix with cranberry juice, serve in a highball glass with lime) and he and I decided her li’l sis Shiraz deserved some fun too. So we poured her some fun and she got a li’l merry and enjoyed herself a lot (mmm, that chocolate-craving-inducing book, girl!), amidst a few evil looks and weak protestations from Friya. It was all above board, but maybe we were pushing it a bit.

mr. friya - err - engineerAnd then we wandered off with her dad…ended up chatting with him in his garage/workshop with over a glass of Laphroaig and some toast things with melted cheese. Surreal. But it was very relaxed, in sharp contrast to the start of the night. After deciding to be more sociable once more and returning to the rest of the gang, we got a lift back home with Sophie (who’s leaving for an entire year in Australia unbelievably soon, but I know she’ll have a crazily good time) and Martin let me in for a quick sip of a rathe fantastically impressive whisky. This very special J&B is so indescribably smooth that, well, that I can’t describe it, I suppose. Still, wonderful end to a night that finished with me crawling back into the house at about three. I was in bed by four. And then up again by ten this morning. Tired, but blessedly free of any considerable hangover.