The End of an Era. (three and four nights in a row)

There is no way possible that I could have asked for a better time this weekend. This Sunday the last official Cookout at La Casa de Sangria played itself out in a epicurean revelry the likes of which I have never seen before. The food was varied and excellent, and overflowed our kitchen table. Sangria both white and red poured forth in a deluge, eagerly consumed, washing down caffeine burgers and curry burgers and lobster and corn and garlic potatoes. There were sweets, there were slurpies, there were bananas engulfed but not eaten. The cacophony of voices swelled and rose and didn't abate until the wee hours of the cool spring night. So many old faces came from all around. They came from Salem, and Sutton, and Somerville, and San Francisco. They even came from places that didn't start with S, like Cambridge and Jamaica Plains. Friends from mailing lists and livejournals and gaming groups mixed and mingled and didn't separate like oil and water. And after today, I can with certainly that oil and water don't mix. Other things, however, mix very nicely. Very nicely indeed.

The day after left a mountain of glass and plastic, bags upon bags of trash, and Polaroid pictures in varying levels of blurriness and content. I don't think I've ever had an event that was filled with so much good will, and with so little bad news. You are all responsible for this event coming to pass. I raise the last glass of sangria to all of you who were a part of this little milestone. By the time July rolls around, I'll be in my new apartment, and I think another cookout will be required to initiate the new abode. Hope to see you all then!