A small serving of lo-fat black bean chili is NOT a good base if you're going to be pouring liberal amounts of chardonnay on top of it a short time later. Result = very drunk girl. Carbs, people. Remember that.

Friday was such a weird night. Neal, Shawn and I went to this full moon party on the beach. The party itself was awesome. Tons of people, beautiful night, sand in your shoes. We even snagged a table with 3 stools.

An older couple asks if they can join us, and we tell them, of course they can. They seemed nice. Really. Until they became fucking annoying psycho assholes.

The woman was a little "starstruck" by me. That happens sometimes, and it's always good for a giggle. Then she started insisting I should change my name. You guys, she told me that I had to change my name not less than 400 times, and I am not exaggerating. Shawn said the woman kept whispering, "Love the news, but she's gotta change her name" into her ear the entire evening, too. She was driving me up the wall. I'M NOT CHANGING IT!

Instead of grabbing the back of her ugly perm and shoving her face in the sand, I chose to cope with this by downing white wine at a rapid pace. Way, way too rapid.

Then they told us they were pagans. I asked a couple of questions about it - nothing too serious or personal. Just, you know... SHOWING INTEREST and attempting to HAVE A CONVERSATION. These fuckwads acted like I'd asked them what the cracks of their asses looked like. They were SUCH ASSHOLES. And boy, was I drunk.

So Neal and I decided to meet Shawn at another bar. Cause, you know, THAT was a good idea. You guys aren't going to believe what I did.

I fell off a bar stool. Backward. Into a crowd of people. For no damn reason at all. God, I was hammered.

I mean, trying to cross your legs IS tough. Not just anyone can do something as risky and difficult as cross their legs without the occasional mishap. I'll bet lots of people pitch backward onto the floor for absolutely no reason at all. Yeah, right.

I have bruises on my back, you guys.

It was time to go home and sleep it off.

And I did.

Neal and I got a lot done the rest of the weekend. I'll bet we spent 15 whole minutes discussing what a filthy mess our apartment is. And I'm positive we talked about how badly it needs painting and how we can't believe we haven't even come close to finishing that project for at least another 10 minutes. It was action packed.

I bought Easter candy, too!