I've come to the conclusion that "Mexican" is the greatest possible theme for a party. Despite the harzardous potential of dozens of extremely wide sombreros at eye level, Frank's 21st was one of the most wonderful night's I've had in a long time. And one of the most impressive 21sts I've been to yet, which, given that I'm currently nearing the end of a whirlwind "21st season," is a pretty big call. The beautiful house was adorned with fairly lights and costumes ranged from life-sized tacos to human pinatas. The most essential part of the theme, tequila, was devoured liberally by all.
I love the idea of 21sts- of a group of people harking from all over the country and all different times of a person's life, coming together entirely for the purpose of celebrating that person. Certainly speeches must contain a necessary element of embarrassment, but ultimately the hilarity is a mark of how fond we are of those we're laughing with.
My workmates asked me recently, "What are you going to do with your life when your friends stop turning 21?"
To be honest, I'm not sure, I may have to make younger friends. How I love thee, 21sts.
Happy birthday Franko.
|Putting on our make-up.|
|Even wrestlers need their Fix.|
|The handle bar or the walrus?|