Weíve had another hurricane near-miss, and my Birthday Week just wrapped up. Thank goodness itís over, and really thank goodness itís only once a year Ė I donít think I could survive more than that.
The weekend before last, I kind of accidentally had a party at my house. It all started with a friend over for apple martinis, and grew from there. The apple martinis are a recent discovery in the Jamie/Beaker household, and I sort of wish we hadnít. Every time we have an apple martini night, I end it by watching the sun come up.
Here are some ways you can tell that you just threw an excellent accidental cocktail party:
- The next morning, the kitchen floor is sticky.
- You donít wash the party dishes for 3 days.
- When you leave the house that night to go barhopping, you leave one of your friends lying on your bedroom floor.
- The outside bathroom/laundry room is locked, you canít figure out how, and you canít figure out how to get it open.
- When Beaker gets back in town, he explains that it opens with your house key, dumbass.
- You friend leaves you a voicemail the next day gushing over how soft and squishy her bedroom carpet is.
- You canít find the bathroom trash can, even though you saw it sitting next to your friend that night.
- You find it two days later, in the shower. (Wait, that one might just be a testament to how completely disgusting I am.)
- You find yourself in the middle of a wrestling match.
- The wrestling is only broken up when a third party SITS ON you two.
- There is a shot glass STUCK in one of your Lord Of The Rings light-up glasses, and you still canít get it out.
- You have neither the drive nor the energy to toss yourself any sort of birthday celebration the next weekend.
And yet, there were totally birthday celebrations. Which I will have to tell you about another time.