Of cyber balls, aching feet, hangovers, and VP debates

I arrived home late last night from a lovely cyber ball at Willow Manor, (don't ask what time I got in...it was late!), where a wonderful time was had by all. I danced with so many charming fellows that I hear my feet cry out in agony with every step. And my head is still floating about a foot off of my shoulders from all the fine champagne. I was taken aback when Paul Newman walked up to me out of thin air and asked if he could teach me a new dance he had only just learned called the "Heavenly Hop". And of course, Herr Mozart, who availed himself of much champagne and caviar, was the talk of the party, especially when he walked up and seized the poor violinist's instrument from him, declaring that he could play better in a wind storm and began to saw away furiously.

So today will be spent soaking my poor swollen feet, nursing this awful hangover, and gearing up to watch the bloodbath...I mean debate, tonight. (Oh, and somebody ought to tell Sarah that she can read up on Lawrence vs. Texas here. That might be one she'd be interested in!)