dance machine

And last night was one for the drunken dancing. Tara and I decided it would be a good idea to start drinking beer at 3. Drunk by 5, we had a dance party in her living room just the two of us, ate some soup, went for a walk downtown on which I fell and tore my knee (and ego) to shreds (go me) and braved the masses. Tara left and I wound up staying out until 6am dancing at the Chromeo after party. I was the last (wo)man standing at the end of the night (or beginning of the morning) and took a thirty dollar, ten dollar solo cab ride home (should have been ten, wound up being thirty due to broken bank machines). How's that for olympic spirit?

Now I'm up and on the little sleep I did manage to catch, Allie (and possible Tara Hare) and I are going to go break in my new picnic basket (birthday present from mum) somewhere by the seashore. I think it's going to be a photo shoot day. I just wish we had bocce and big floppy hats.

Sunday funday!