This week was awful awful and horrible horrible. (Minus the fact, of course, that I bought a plane ticket to Paris yesterday!!) This weekend, par contre, will be an excess of parties and wine and mimes galore! Allow me to qualify the mime part...Darling Friend is having a mime-themed party at her house ce soir; which means I get to be chic with my little parisien beret and all black clothing...and no one can talk. Because this is how mimes live. In a world of silence, sadness, reflection, and when they work at birthday parties, maybe a little bit of joy. DF and I went to get drinks after work last night and I thought I heard her ask me,
"What do mimes mean?"
I'll admit I was taken aback by such a philosophical question over vodka tonics; I responded,
"I think that, deep down inside, they're really just a sad and troubled people."
DF looked confused. She and asked me again,
"What do you think mimes eat?"
"Oh, I don't know...silent food? Certainly not pretzels, nothing too loud or salty. Maybe applesauce?"
DF and I also came to the conclusion that mimes probably eat an inordinate amount of black and white food...therefore hard boiled eggs and oreos were a natural choice for hors d'oeuvres. I have no doubt that this will be a super party.