I curse my roommate for foisting her country music upon me.
Last night saw about 15 people, about that many bottles of wine, the
spirit of Jose Cuervo, a hip-hop dance-off in my living room, and an
intense conversation until 6 am.
That's right, I stayed up so far past my bedtime that I went to bed at the
time I usually go to the gym.
The lingering effects of last night include wine withdrawal tremors,
muttering words to booty call country songs, and a hazy recollection of a
volatile text message battle with Mr. SummerTimeFun. Oh dear God.
Best. Night. Ever.