Our chance to relive elementary school talent shows. Except don't recall hangovers in those days.

Boy do I feel great today. Real super great. It was probably the whiskey, as I decided the other night while Karaoke-ing that sipping whiskey on the rocks would be my new drink. Could've also been the vodka sodas, or perhaps the beer, or I don't, the lemon drop shot that was more like 8 shots in one glass. Can't really pinpoint it, but when my phone rang at 10:30am and I got up to turn it off, stuff was spinning, namely, every little bit of stuff in my room.

So then when I got up and needed to eat, I thought, oh, I'm going to eat Taco Bell, b/c I've been craving it for like 3 weeks now. Don't worry, I ate it, so I got that craving out of my system and won't need it again for a while I'm guessing. Especially since after I ate it I kind of wanted to throw up everywhere. I am mostly full of good ideas today.

I think I'm recovered now, which is good given that it's 6pm and I've accomplished pretty much nothing at all this entire day. Oh Cabaret was last night. I believe that I blogged about Cabaret last year...which means I've been blogging for over a year, which is weird. Anyway. We did the whole Bollywood Dance thing again. Different costumes, different moves, same old deal. I think we messed up a lot. But, we did it with big happy smiles on our faces, and I personally enjoyed every minute of my bad dancing up there, so good times, good times.

I still find the entire concept of Cabaret just weird. My parents called this morning, they were very impressed I'm sure that their graduate student was rolling out of bed around 11:15am on a Friday, and I had to explain what last night was. Granted, I love Cabaret, but I think when I tell my friends and fam that I performed in what is essentially a talent show, at the age of 26, they probably get a little miffed. It just doesn't seem normal. But then again, I do live in a country where we, by choice, watch washed-up D-list celebs learn ballroom dancing, so...I don't know. Maybe it's really not so weird.

Whatever. All I know, is that I think that come next May, I'm going to be rather sad that I don't get to go to dance practices multiple times per week to ishka-iskha-turn-the-page-ishka-ishka-scoop-the-baby and wear a bindi and play dancer on a stage. I might just have to host my own talent show or something.

Well then, I promised myself I'd write at least two pages of my negotiations paper before dinner and, here we are, on the couch, and I'm definitely not writing about my abilities to negotiate. Nope, not at all. So I'll just go do that now.