The Case of the Disappearing Chicken Lo Mein

Man oh day, I am Lindsay Lohan exhausted. I'm at work, hungover as a mother effer.

The root of this evil began with a small spat I had w/ Malibu Ken. OK, it was more like me being an evil meanie because I'm on my period. I blame the hormones!

But anyway, I had made plans last night and I figured I should just go all out and get shitfaced and forget about the argument. I organized a group of lovely ladies to go out to Play. This is my NEW fave spot. I didn't pay for any drinks and had a great time with my girls (If you do a little research you'll find out why Thursday nights at Play are fun). Let's just say I had a few too many and before I knew it I was shouting every word to "Shake Your Rump". Yep, I took it back to '94. When I got home I devoured 2/3 of a whole carton of chicken lo mein. This could explain my demonic stomach aches right now. I called MK really really late and woke him up to try and apologize, but I think the combination of my drunken slurring and him being half asleep made for an undecipherable conversation. I then passed out fully clothed and woke up this morning with all clues pointing to: yes, I am a drunkard. The empty chinese carton with the fork still in it, drunken IMs on my computer screen, Il Bastardo wine, bottle of Motrin, unwashed face........ sigh.

But last night further proved what I've been saying for years - Thursday is the new Friday.