Met up with a family friend and her crew for some wine and food. Had a good time, met some really cool people, although the highlight was probably a very old lady actually saying to me, "Well, you're just gorgeous. Have you ever had an 80 year old before?" I wish I was shitting you guys. My as-diplomatic-as-possible response was to pretend to blush, smile, and then turn around and talk to someone else.
After a few hours at the beach and a couple of naps, I desperately needed a drink, so joined a few people downtown for after-work fun. The bar was very cool, although they weren't paying attention and the big TV in the room started showing the news and scenes from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. Talk about putting a damper on my Friday night.
Later on we headed across the street, and our group was lucky enough to include a very, very drunk French girl whose concept of dancing included a lot of vogueing, fist pumping, and staggering backwards into several strangers a minute. Felt just like happy hour back home, really.
Ah, yes, Saturday. Joined about 15 other people for "lunch". I use the quotes because their definition of lunch apparently comes from the same book as my mother's. Here's what I consumed starting at 1pm:
- 2 vodka tonics
- 2 caipirinhas
- 4 glasses of wine
- some food
- additional glass of wine
- 4 glasses of champagne
- 1 glass of scotch, neat
- 2 beers
- 2 more vodka tonics
Needless to say, after a couple more bars and hanging out at someone's house where I was allowed to mix my own drinks (which many of you know never works out well for anyone involved) my more vital organs started to shut down and it was time to head home, where Kate and Cathy wondered what the hell I had done to myself before I passed out on my bed until the morning.
Can't wait to do that again.