My Hair Hurts

Looking back, it's hard to determine which is worse--the approx 4.5 hours of sleep on the floor or the 57th glass of honey whiskey. (<----obvious lie).

My trip north started with a bang that left us all with whimpers this morn.

Lin Lin and hubby gave me a ride to the airport. I was bemoaning my mail service, bc I had wanted to get all of this cheesy horrible BBC series on DVD and take it with me to SFO and force Tink to watch it with me. Sharing is caring, y'all. But it was not be, until the hubby remembered he had an unopened copy of the entire season at his house. SCORE! Tink's suffering was obviously destined by the gods.

I don't know what it is about me that motivates bartenders to invent new and deadly cocktails just for me. But thanks to Bernice at LAX, I know how to make a kosher crust for cheesecake and have a new drink: the marzipan. I really don't think she needed tonmake that second one a tall. Sometimes having a bartender like you is the worst.

Tink and Pandaman picked me up and took me on a harrowing trip through IKEA. I fashioned some awesome jousting gear out of a planter, a plastic lid, and a feather duster. But Tink didn't seem to think it was wise for me to hop in the cart and challenge the other shoppers. I did get to play in the pillow bin though.

Outbfor Ethiopian food and party supplies (Newcastle werewolf beer. No, seriously) and back to the house forth awesome surprise---a slumber party with omey, mrs. C and Babby C!

Reasons to love Panda: he comes out of the kitchen with beers and asks "Are you feeling like a lycanthrope?"

It was a silly and fun night. Wigs were worn. Poker was played, badly. I can't say I was verybwell behaved, but I didngive fair warning before misbehaving. And for some unknown reason, these people seem to like me.

I really don't recommend a five am wakeup time after going on a fassbender, though. Now I must go drink my weight in water and prepare for tonight's garden party. Lookout, world.