Despite a scarily slow start, yesterday’s Derby party surpassed any of our expectations, pulling more than eighty revelers, a fair number of whom stayed until we finally kicked them out at five in the morning. The mix was exceedingly eclectic, from Ivy Leaguers to Knicks dancers, with musicians, actors, investment bankers, med school students, an MTV VJ and a slew of filmmakers in between.

Still, we woke this morning to find our apartment covered in a thick layer of Boones, juleps and Old Milwaukee, and spent much of the day scrubbing the remnants away. As a result, our apartment is now the cleanest we’ve seen it – better even than its relatively pristine state when we moved in mid-November, and certainly better than it stood on Friday, considering we’d not actually cleaned the place in the intervening six months since the move (as evidenced particularly by the state of our bathroom, christened by at least one previously overnighting female as “absolutely, disgustingly unusable”). In the whirlwind clean-a-thon, we even went so far as to remove the windows from their frames for a thorough inside and out Windexing – with them transparent rather than the previous opaque, we’ve now discovered we overlook a busy street in front and a small park in back.

Stunned by the beauty of our apartment in its newly washed down state, we’ve vowed to clean the place regularly, a sentiment that should last until slightly before whenever we next had intended to clean. Consequently, we’re preemptively planning another party for later this summer as a sort of backup plan. The next post-party cleanup should bring us back to pristine, no matter how bad the inevitable downhill slide in the months between.