Uch

Incommunicado no more

If you were one of the recipients of either a drunken phone call or text message from me (or apparently both if you're particularly HOTT™) this past weekend, I sheepishly apologize. Saturday morning, my good friends at Sprint hand delivered a replacement Treo, which indirectly led to my current inability to wholly reconstruct the events of the past 48 hours. And directly led to the dozen or so new phone numbers with names galore but nary a face to match.

While I vaguely recall snippets of Eva Longoria and Lindsay Lohan and complimentary bottles of Cristal, I'm still not certain how I found myself at some random house in the hills, playing Halo 2 at 5:15 Sunday morning. And to the very sweet, attractive (?) young lady who drove me back to my car, well, uh, thank you very much.