So Friday night was Girls' Night In at my friend Sarah's house. Laurie and I decided that we'd make a night of it and go out for sushi beforehand, which we did, and it was fantastic. Seriously, thanks to Laurie, I'm now in love with sushi and could eat it every day. I'm not talking about hunks of raw fish, don't get me wrong; I'm talking about the adorable little rice, avocado, shrimp, crab, seaweed, and tempura concoctions that you dip in soy sauce and wasabi (Bev likes her sushi spicy!) and eat with chopsticks. But ANYWAY, I digress.
We had a lovely meal and great conversation, as always, then we headed on over to Sarah's and met up with some other girls. We met a new chick who seems nice, and I like making new friends, so that's cool. We were drinking dirty vodka martinis; which is basically just Kettle One vodka shaken up with olive juice and with a couple of good quality green olives in there. I love olives, I love salty foods, and of course I love(d) vodka, so I had... a few. Ok, I had three (ish). Yeah, I was pretty sauced, but I wasn't driving and I was being my usual sociable and charming self (heh), so it's all good, right?
At one point we had to look something up online, don't remember what, and Sarah made the mistake of leaving herself logged in to Facebook. People who know me know to NEVER, EVER DO THAT. We updated her status tout de suite, and then we might have joined a couple of groups that I thought Sarah might be interested in. You know, like "Sarah is now a fan of pussy," "Sarah joined the group 'Pig Fuckers United,'" and Sarah just became friends with "Randy Lickers."
In retrospect, I guess I had it comin'.
Next thing I know, I'm standing in the kitchen talking to my new friend Jen & we're still giggling over our little adventures in Facebookland. La la la... everything's dandy... when suddenly 5'9" of liquored-up brunette hit me from behind and pulled me over onto the floor. HARD. All I saw was the shocked looks of people around us and then the ceiling, and my teeth smacked together with such force that I instantly knew something bad had happened in there. I tasted a little piece of something... at the time I feared it was a filling that had been jarred loose. I now know that it was actually a piece of my freaking back MOLAR that had been broken off by the impact of my friend's surprise tackle. Fucking great. I guess I should be grateful that it wasn't a hip or something, because I am clearly getting too old to drink heavily.
That's when Sarah's husband came down and gave us the bum's rush, and we went back to Laurie's house. Where apparently, we hung out for a little longer, but I couldn't say I remember that part. Nor do I remember the part of the evening when Laurie claims I said, "I am just gonna lie down for a minute," and then I crossed my hands over my chest and lowered myself straight back onto her couch, in her words, "like a vampire lying back into a coffin." Nice.
I spent the next day lying around pledging to never drink again. Those salty drinks sapped my body of every last drop of moisture! I looked something like this all day on Saturday, though I certainly was not rockin' out to my boom box.<---------
In a related story, I will never drink Dirty Martinis again. The End.
Unbeknownst to us, last night our son sneaked down from bed and hid out in the kitchen while we were watching TV. We were just killing time until True Blood came on, so we watched a DVR'ed episode of Arrested Development. I thought I heard something at one point, and Jim went and investigated and decided it was the cat moving his cat dish. Okay, cool. We reverted back to our TV coma. When it ended, we had about 20 minutes still so I put on Monty Python's The Meaning of Life. We were laughing away, and it was the part of the movie when John Cleese starts giving the Sex Ed class. You know, the part where he starts clinically detailing the acts of foreplay and sex:
"Yes. Good. Nibbling the earlobe, uhh, kneading the buttocks, and so on and so forth. So, we have all these possibilities before we stampede towards the clitoris, Watson."
We were laughing away, and we had just gotten to the part where the professor's wife comes in and they're lying face to face about to demonstrate for the students when I heard a noise from the kitchen.
!!!!!
So I pause it, and of course it's such a ridiculously suggestive freeze frame that I instantly start blushing, and we discover Danny hiding under a kitchen bar stool, watching the TV. Oh, SNAP. Jim starts grilling him about how long he'd been watching, and I went from annoyed to bemused in about 3 minutes... right around the time Danny outed himself and said, "I haven't been here very long. It was the cat moving his dish!" Hahahahahahahahaha! Busted!
In case you haven't seen it, check out the scene here:
The moral of these stories: Choose your drinking buddies carefully, and don't assume your children are asleep at 9:45 PM just because they've been in bed for almost two hours. They are sneaky little mofos.