Hangover be gone. Seriously, can someone please stop the evil dwarf that's in my head pounding on my skull with a hammer from the inside?? Last night was our friend Ronnie's birthday. We went to one of our favorite restaurants and then back to his house for a little house party action. It was like being in college again except with far better beer and no one was making out against the wall. Because Ronnie and his roommate are beer snobs I imbibed high octane beer rather than my watered down light beer. This resulted in me tripping over a cord, spilling an entire glass of beer and knocking over an amplifier...plus that little detail of me being sprawled all over the garage with five shocked musicians staring down at me wondering why the music had died. To be fair, I am naturally clumsy, there were sixty thousand cords snaked everywhere AND I was wearing platform heels. It was very early in the evening and I hadn't had nearly enough to blame it on the booze. Later? Well that's an entirely different story.

Those heels will be the death of me. As my care taker, John took one look at my wobbly self and suggested that I sit down on the steps and slide down them rather than break my neck. He has all the good ideas. I flew down the steps at what seemed to be slightly faster than the speed of sound and "gracefully" landed on the floor in what I assume was a very chic pose. You know, legs akimbo and arms flailing while yelling, "whoooooaaaaa!" Two seconds later, John came tumbling after...apparently I wasn't the only one having problems with gravity.

A girl at the party whom I despise took one look at John and I sprawled and laughing at the bottom of the steps and said, "Do you guys need a drink? A drink of water maybe?" Her suggestion was scorned, of course. And seriously, her one liners need work.

Gravity continued to work against me all night and I finally admitted defeat, and that's why dear friends, I left the party shoeless. And that's what happens when you don't leave the house very often anymore...you become socially inept. And I'm ok with that, because I have a partner in crime and suffering--John's on the other couch making moaning sounds that remind me of two whales humping each other. I'm not exactly sure why it would remind me of that because I've never experienced whale love making, but it has to sound like this.