Neal came home. He brought me presents. I hugged him for like a year. I missed his smell.

We didn't go to Key West Friday, like originally planned. By the time I got a hold of the person we were visiting, it was too late to go. I love Key West, and was initially sad, but in restrospect, this was a good thing. It was a packed weekend without the trip.

So instead, Neal and I had a movie marathon. We saw The Perfect Storm (eh) and The Replacements. (eeeh) They were both mediocre, but we both were dazzled by the special effects in The Perfect Storm, and well, that was the whole point of that flick.

We got up way late Saturday. Big slugs=us. Drove like crazy people to where by company party was being held. This is where things got fun.

Both dressed up. Damn, we looked good.

Went to the party. Open bar. You can see where this is going.

Had dinner. Ech. My "rare" steak was medium.

The company VP gave away awards. I won... Best New Employee! Yay, me! I was elected by my peers. Huzzah.

Became time to milk the last moments of open bar. I sat down next to an employee from another station (Let's call him K) and his boyfriend. We chatted. K was a gushy guy. He turned to a friend, and (referring to me) said, "I have just met Madonna. You must let me introduce you." That is a great compliment.

I left briefly to track down my missing cigarettes. When I got back, about 9 people told me that K was ALL OVER Neal. I wish I could have seen it. So funny. Although if K and I had to throw down, I could take that bitch so fast.

Bar plans were made, and we were off.

Later, K's boyfriend was all over me. Really. Y'all, he BIT my LEG. I'm not kidding. I was sitting on the back of the booth, he was in the seat. All of a sudden, I saw him lean his head over like he was going to say something to the person on the other side of me, and CHOMP. At least he didn't break the skin.

Neal became a dancing machine. I became a lazy and crusty, yet good-natured, drunk. All these women kept coming up to me and telling me if I wasn't going to dance with my gorgeous, gyrating boyfriend, they would. I told 'em go ahead and took another drag. I was COMFY.

An Aussie bought me shooters. Oh, and lest you find me too neglectful, I did indeed dance with Neal. I just needed the shooters, first.

Time for the next bar. A bit after we arrived, the band started up "Mustang Sally," my favorite seedy bar song. Hey, you guys know all those rock star fantasies I'm always having? Well, I am.

At the chorus, I made eye contact with the singer and sort of gestured to the stage. He nodded and helped me up. Next thing I knew, I was all "Riiiide, Sally, ride." Hell yeah. If only I could sing, but it was great anyway.

AND NEAL MISSED IT! I couldn't believe it.

The next morning, Neal said he was seeing double at the second bar. We walked home, me barefoot. Far. As we arrived at the hotel entrance, two of the people we were with pulled up in a taxi, all, "Why the hell did you two walk?" That sucked.

Went to bed. Woke up tired and sore, but of course, nothing compared to Neal. He has famously serious hangovers, and they're contagious. You have to be careful.

We were moving around so slow, I thought the hotel maid was going to personally drag our sluggish selves out by our hair. We finally got out of there and headed to IHOP for eggs.

And then home, where we proceeded to morph into living, breathing extensions of the couch. We weren't moving. I ventured out once in the pouring rain to bring back burritos and that was it. Wow, we were gross.

So now we have to bust ass on the whole moving project, since we're supposed to be out... OhmyGod... FRIDAY. Hmm. I'm not so sure that's going to happen. Still need to scrape, spackle, and paint. Hell, we need to BUY paint.

OK, I'm just not thinking about this right now. Yeah, denial. That's the Jamie Way.