Theory of Relatively

LoveBug and I went to "All That Glitters" last night in Tampa. It was a wine tasting benefit, so of course it was for a good cause. We got decked out and hit the ground running at 6:30p.m. I think I stopped drinking a hair before 10p.m. By the time the doors closed at 11p.m. I was stumbling to the car.

We sat in the parking lot for a period of time before I felt sufficiently close to passing out, thereby allowing my husband to actually move the vehicle without causing major sickness.

I woke up to the smell of petrol because we were almost out of gas. I stumbled from the car and waiting along the side of the road until he was done. He brought me bread, which I tried to eat, unsuccessfully. I made my way back to the car and rode home with a 32oz plastic cup mounted under my chin, just in case.

The next time I woke we were in our driveway. I opened the door and threw up in the lawn. I stumbled past my son on the way to the bedroom, swearing that I would never drink again. I slept on the bathroom floor. It was uncomfortable, but comforting to know the toilet was just a hurl away.

I woke this morning with a bruised forehead, most likely from the door lock.

The benefit was great fun, and thankfully I remember 99% of it. I procured some fabulous art work by a student at Ringling. I don't have pictures of the pieces I won in the auction, but here is a sample of his work. You can find more of his stuff at www.myspace.com/jrodrig2



LoveBug bought some wine -- he's not sure how much as he was a bit toasty at the time of purchase. He said, "It's okay, it's for a good cause," to which I replied, "Cause we were drunk." To which we giggled for a split second before grabbing our heads and groaning in pain.

I'm relatively sure I shall never, ever drink again.

This is Funky, and that is all.