Are you there, Vodka? It's me, Dawn.

Yes, I ripped that off of someone famous. No, I don't care.

THURSDAY:

Dinner last night was AWESOME, Mrs. Keen is a great cook. She went way overboard, there were like 50 different things to eat, and she sent me home with enough food to feed me until rapture. Delicious. Jeromy showed me pictures of his surgery as it was being done (as in, 'Hi! They just pulled my skull skin down over my face and started hackin' away!), it was nasty but pretty neat at the same time. I'm glad he's doing so well. And I LOVE his mom.

Our house is getting foreclosed upon, how great is that? I got home from dinner last night and there was a guy waiting to serve us with papers (well, not us, but the owner of the house). Apparently it's going to go to auction soon, which is sad. I really love my house; I wish I had the money to buy it from the asshats that can't even pay $250/month to keep their house. Ah well. Maybe it's a sign that I need to start looking to make another big move. To Hawaii this time, perhaps?

I'm getting back into better shape, I think. I went to boxing again last night and my shins don't hurt nearly as badly as they did the last time. My FACE, however, is killing me (it's killing you too, huh? save it). My sparring buddy took advantage of my slowness to pop me a good one in the jaw. You wouldn't believe how much you use your jaw until there's something to make you notice! (again...save it).

RANDOM MID-DAY MUSING: I think that Deron Williams, Jamil Walker Smith, Meghan Fox, Jesse James (the WCC guy, not the outlaw) and Michael Ealy are the hottest people ever. Discuss.

SATURDAY:

I'm in Sarasota today, covering Rays-Reds. I really like Ed Smith (the ballpark) but the press box is SO HOT until about 2 p.m., when the sun finally goes behind us. I have a bright shirt on that the guy next to me looked like poisonous mold. He's old, my feelings aren't hurt.

Thursday night was, as predicted, a complete and total disaster. The boys were already drunk by the time I got to the beach, and two of three left soon afterward. I managed to convince the third to come with me to a club down the road a ways, where I drank vodka doubles and danced with a guy who introduced himself as -- true story -- Felix the Cat. He was actually pretty cute though, so I wasn't too sorry I gave him my phone number.

The random, drunken night got me musing about how best to piece together a fun night the morning after, when most of the night is spent in a haze. My routine is to wake up the next morning and check my drunk text messages, go through my receipts and feel queasy about how much I spent on alcohol and, finally, look through the pictures I took with my camera. Although I'm still a bit sketchy on putting numerical value to this, it sort of breaks down to the amount of pictures taken of me doing something stupid, as well as the absurdity of my 3 a.m. text messaging is directly related to Bar Tab + Free Drinks + Company. 

In simpler terms: BT + FD + C = SP x TM

OK, it's not the theory of relativity or anything, but I think I'm on to something here. Take last night, for example:

My bar tab at Frenchy's: $38

My bar tab at Shepherd's: $87

Free drinks: 4

Company: Three ridiculous baseball writers

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Stupid pictures: Me, holding seashells over my chest (I'd like to say I was trying to imitate the Rays rookie hazing, but I think I was just plain stupid at this point); an unidentified friend (I cut his head off in the photo), laying spread-eagle on the ground, with a water trail from his crotch to his neck (did he pee himself? I don't know); Jordan, squishing my forehead in his hands; me and "Felix the Cat" ; various other full-of-nonsense shots.

Drunken texts: This exchange between my boss and I quite possibly takes the cake:

ME (2:28 a.m.): I made friends with Felix the Cat tonight!

HIM (2:30 a.m.): ???

ME (2:38 a.m.): Too much alcohol + strippers = boob forks and bad.

HIM (2:40 a.m.): That was one spectacular text, young scribe. Hydrate!

ME (2:51 a.m.): /wann play spies?

HIM (2:53 p.m.): **Online host** SteakgrowsonDmitri's cell phone has exploded.

To my defense, I STILL spelled everything correctly ("/wann" is correct, as per The Dugout). I have NO IDEA what a boob fork is, and neither does anyone else I saw that night. There were NO strippers involved, although there was some talk about going to Mons at one point.

/shrugs

It was fun evening, though. :)

NEWS: I'll be in Saginaw from April 2-12. I'm already taken on Saturday the 4th (thanks to T. Shells and his party-promoting business!) but would like to see as many people as possible. Of course, I'll be making a trip to East Lansing (two, if the weather's nice), and one down to see the Wifey, and I'm obviously out of the running if MSU makes the Final Four because I've already got tickets in hand, but other than that, I'm up for anything.

Please entertain me. At this point it's quite possible that I'll never come home again, so make this one count, friends. :)