My liver has shrivelled into a raisin. The girls of The Cotillion had a party last night. Strange, I never thought I could have so much fun with my "imaginary" friends. Merri wandered in and out of the conversation with her husband, so we had a male chaperone. Beth D kept hitting the nudge button on Messenger, which tickled, and caused me to make rather a fool of myself in a side conversation with Stephen Taylor, who is rather kinky in his chatting preferences - "TALK POLICY TO ME!!!". Stud.

At some point I think we scared Zendo Deb away. Even armed she couldn't keep the peace with all of us going wild.

It took Jane half the night to figure out the secret password to get into the party, but once she was there we got her all liquored up in short order. We probably shouldn't have put her hand in that glass of warm water, though.

EM Zanotti was in her undisclosed location, getting Miguel the poolboy to bring her refills. She was kind enough to do some quick research into whether or not the swearing I did last night online counted toward my Lent promise. According to her reliable source, who took pity on me: No.

Beth, Feisty and I had filthy conversations about sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll, while I kept ducking in and out to get a bit on the side. Gotta say I'm digging that Feisty chick.

Romeocat was there for a while, but that's kind of a blur. I'm sure there were others, too, but I was a little too inebriated to keep track. Just think of how much trouble we could get into if we were all actually in the same room!

Vegas in October girls, remember - mark your calendars!!