I’m writing this post drunk.

By my count, I had four or five beers, and a vodka shot of some sort.

I staggered home from Adams Morgan only a few minutes ago, out celebrating Pithy Comments (too drunk to link, google “DC is my Manhattan” for her blog)’s 30th birthday. Which, y’know? Hey, I’m 31 in two months, she’s still a fucking youngin.

And what a good dancer, too, but I didn’t get to dance with her at Little Habana (Havana? I’m pretty sure the sign had a ‘b’ in it, though).

Then we moved over to Bourbon. Holy jesus. Packed. Sorry, when that many people? Time to bail. Wish I had more time to hang with Pithy and Flipflops (another blog … flipflops in rain, she never posts) and all the other bloggers at Bourbon I saw — LiLu, Lexa? (not sure Lexa, maybe?), Maxie, Deutlich, Change. (I think I neglected to say “hi” to most of them, but in fairness, was tired, was drunk, was needing toilet).

Home. Glad I left a/c on. Thoughts: wish I’d made bed this morning while sober. Also? Tomorrow at work is going to really really suck.

That is all.