Q: How many diarylanders can you get in a bar?

A: This is no joke.

*~*

Friday night I really got out of hand for no apparent reason. I was just "stopping" in at happy hour with gingi after an exhausting week, to say hi to the "international man of mystery".

I think we know, there's never just a "stop by."

Before I know it, I'm briefly meeting Ruby and chatting with Achren, Sundaygirl, Addieplum, Peth and surly.

I would like to take a moment now to clear my name in the "glass throwing incident." As I recall, what happened was, one of the Aussies knocked over his pint, so in a quick effort to make the visitor feel less embarrassed about the gaffe, I swept at the scotch glass just to knock it over and DIVERT attention. I was *not*, I repeat *not* just being wasted. I really was trying to help a foreigner. Hence, why I tried to explain to the bouncer that yes, it may have APPEARED that I threw the glass, but in reality, I was just trying to be diplomatic.

Hand to God.

I am really not a trouble maker. Regardless of how drunk I may be. I want that stated for the record.

My friend AK and I left around 2PM because we found out when she checked her messages that we had scored two comped tix to the matinee of The Producers.

Good thing we left too, because when I stood up I found I hadn't earned my sea legs and almost fell over. Additionally, I had to throw up.

We spent a few moments on Avenue B with AK trying to convince me that "Mr. Puke Buddy," a.k.a the trash can on the sidewalk, was my friend and I should go talk to him. I refused to throw up in public. In particular on Avenue B. I mean, how amateur? Please...

We jumped in a taxi and on the ride home I tried to ride out the nauseau, which is a feat to itself in a NYC taxi, particularly when your friend is trying to shove Vienna Fingers down your throat as you are choking back puke.

I got into my apartment, drank a bottle of water, stripped and literally ran to the bathroom. I sorta made it. Sorta, meaning, I volitile projected all over the toilet. That was nice.

I fell asleep in a second and had a disturbing dream. I dreamt that one of my friends brought me into this empty classroom with chairs. I sat down in the chair at the front of the room, and people from all walks of my life trickled in said hello. As they came in, they each took a chair and formed a circle around me. Family, college friends, work friends, summer friends, etc.

I looked around from one to the other as they would each say a word, one picking up where the other left off:

"Partygirl,"

"We.."

"Think..."

"It's..."

"Just.."

"Time..."

"For..."

"You.."

"To..."

"Go."

The implied was that they were talking me to rehab.

So I just smiled and stood up and said, "Ok, let's go."

I woke up at noon to my roommate holding out the phone to me. AK was calling to get me moving for the matinee.

We made it to the show as the lights were flickering and ran to our seats, which were amazing. The next thing I know, the entire theater is standing up and facing the back.

President Bush (41) walks in, I assume with Barbara, and the place applauds. AK and I sat in our seats, not understanding the fuss, as I griped, "Tourists. You'd think they never saw anyone famous," until the guy next to me explained that it's protocol to stand when a dignitary enters the room.

Whoops.

Anyway, thanks to 41, because his appearance brought back Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick for the matinee, which apparently they don't often do now that their contracts are wrapping up. And they were great.

That's about it for now. I'm procrastinating getting ready to go out tonight. I have about 8 million half-baked plans, all in different areas of the city, that I am trying to sort out.

It's a rough life, but someone's gotta do it.

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