Tonight my roommates' boyfriend looked at me when we were at our fifth bar and first party of the night, and said, "Partygirl, when does it stop? When does it stop?"

And I said, "Never. It never stops."

I just arrived home. My computer says it's 7:43AM. My eyes say it's about 10 pollutants too many. My legs say it's several low-dance moves too many. My throat, if my voice could speak, would say a pack of cigarettes too many.

I'm back in the game.

Play ball!

previous next