I'd like to say I have something interesting to say but I do not. I am still recuperating from Friday night's puke-o-rama and have yet to regain my senses. I appreciate all the well wishes from my blog friends, it did cheer me up. But I so do enjoy ringing in the new year not toasting to it, but eating toast. And drinking a lot of Sprite. I will, forever and ever, endorse Sprite as the one who brought me back up when I was at my lowest.
We still had our party though, even after staying up until 3:00 throwing up and grabbing on to the floor for dear life all night. Thing I hate about those kinds of puking episodes is that, there was no drinking involved beforehand, so there was no glimmer of jubilation, no fun before the storm, it was all just darkness. Bad, bad mojo.
I was headed to the grocery store to get supplies for Mrtl's crab dip when it hit me, and I had to leave the store immediately and pray I made it home without hurling all over the Grand Caravan. No one likes to witness a soccer mom throwing up all over her chariot, I assure you.
I did make it home, but the next day I couldn't even THINK of going near food, so LP ended up getting little weenies and stickin' em in BBQ sauce, and he made some guacamole dip that pissed me off cuz I couldn't eat it. The party was nice, but like I said, I felt on the verge the entire time and it was ugly. And yes, someone DID bring Velveeta dip, I stand defeated. We played Pictionary, because that is what soccer folk do at parties, and the gals lost, being unable to properly draw "Muggsy" the dog or "Albania" for our team. Oh well.
So today I am chillin' like Bob Dylan and will resume tomorrow with more upbeat and lively material. For today, have a great 2006 and see ya on Monday. Go watch some football.