I suppose I shouldn't just announce that on the Internet, but I don't think I was fooling anyone.

So yes, last night's 60s-themed awards ceremony was way fun. My outfit rocked. Neal had to come from work, so he just wore work clothes and some love beads. He felt out of place, so THAT's a good theme party. We ate some grub, grabbed some drink tickets, and went to town. They were initially stingy with the tickets, but eventually we had a bundle. It always works out like that.

About halfway into the awards ceremony, I announced to the surrounding group that I felt like giving out an award. So I went up to the stage and did just that. Neal said it must be nice to just get an urge to do something like that, then be able to do it. Know what? He's right.

After the ceremony, we went to the tiki bar. This is where the evening began to spiral out of control. I remember drinks being bought for me. I remember being whipped around the dance floor. Uh... that's about it.

Is it a bad thing that the station manager (big boss) now refers to me as his "drinking buddy?"

Neal was able to fill in some holes. He apologized for getting mad at me, which I don't recall. Apparently, we got all ready to go, said our 84,000 goodbyes and thank-yous, paid our tab, and were walking out the door, when I got this perfectly blank look on my face and informed Neal that I'd lost my purse. He was not happy.

One of the DJs just informed me that at one point, I got mad and winged the car keys at Neal. Fortunately, they hit a tree. Oopsie.

That is not like me, by the way. I'm very non-confrontational. A meaner person might say "wuss," but that's neither here nor there.

I couldn't find my keys as I was running out the door this morning. Neal eventually located them in front of the fridge. He says it looks like I just came home and threw all the stuff I was wearing or carrying all around the house. I'm sure he's right.

My friend Gretchen told me once, in college, she came home after me one drunken evening and could follow the trail I'd left and tell exactly what I had done. Wallet on the floor, money in the bathroom sink, half a burrito in the toilet, toilet seat up. I believe that was the night of many tequila shooters, where I might as well have tossed the three bucks I spent on the burrito directly into the tiolet, because then I wouldn't have had to spend time throwing it up.

Man, I'm sexy.

Anyway, I evetually sobered up at work. I don't get huge hangovers (THANK GOD) so that wasn't a real issue. But I don't feel the greatest. I think I'm going to go home and get some dinner.