I thought one of the only good things about getting old was the wisdom it brings. But I’m 36 years worth of old and I still don’t know how to drink right. I just spent the last fifteen hours oscillating between slowly dying on the couch and slowly dying on the bathroom floor, all thanks to the world’s worst hangover. And yes I know I already had a hangover this week, though that episode felt like a sweet baby deer’s kiss compared to today’s humble-a-thon. Happy holidays!

I wasn’t able to even think about food until just a few hours ago, and the only thing that sounded remotely edible was a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich, and Tap Ramen, and a towering Coke. Because that’s what 36 year-old ladies eat after they hurl the day away like a giddy college girl.