A Day (or Two) Late, A Dollar Short

I thought I'd missed all the weekend fun when I slept through the Saturday night party I'd been talking up for days beforehand. A bit overzealous in my efforts to get wasted before the Les Savy Fav set at the alcohol-free Fest Full of Rock, next thing I know its 3am, the party goers are returning to my home, and I can't recall the point at which they left and I didn't. (I suspect that point followed closely my departure from the Ballroom, which came on the heels of my making a total ass of myself in front of the band when I went to go retrieve toilet paper from the green room. I somehow managed to drop the tower of rolls, twice, all the while blubbering to them about lord knows what and only after the fact realizing that the blank stares they wore matched perfectly with the "how did this idiot drunk girl get in here and what is she doing?" I'm now sure was running through their respective heads.)

Never fear though. Our seemingly low-key Sunday night soiree turned into a riotous good time. Naturally, however, I was asleep for that part and can only imagine the fun based on the accumulation of beer cans, random food items, and general mess that I found in the living room Monday morning that definitely wasn't there when I retired Sunday night. But before the big sleep, there was this