My liver and I have come to an agreement as of late – I give it a few nights off and it’ll keep processing the copious amounts of alcohol that I feed it on a semi-regular basis. Sadly, however, the past few days I don’t think I’ve held up my end of the deal.

You see, in the midst of:
getting lost in a Ross shopping center and
watching the ACC tournament and
finding $2.50 margaritas and
searching for battery chargers and
watching kickball and
breaking bread with Brad and
leaving Audblogs and
meeting Jay Allen! Jay Allen! and
the unequalable Jish and
singing “Like a Virgin” and
making a movie and
breathing through my mouth for two hours while making said movie and
getting manicures and
napping and
figuring out if we are Hot or Not and
gallivanting with the one, the only Noah Glass and
exchanging cards with a Cocky Bastard (who is actually quite lovely) and
laying out and
seeing John Stamos and
eating guacamole with every meal and
adoring Shellen and
breaking Biz Stone’s glasses (oh! the remorse…) and
shaving heads and
taking Jager shots o’ death and
refusing to wear a shirt to bed and
watching Ev flirt and
taking a ridiculous amount of photos and
seeing Neil Pollack introduce Ben Brown and
seeing some beaver and
getting my Blogger tees and
chatting with Jeff Veen and
playing a REALLY bad game of pool and
watching MJ try to flip Jonathan Abrams and
swooning over Chris Weatherall like all the other girls and
running into the guy from the Dodge Durango “Hemi” commercial and
giving him a Blogger tee and
tripping on the street and
hurting my arm and
going to the hospital to get it checked out and
finding out that thankfully, it wasn’t broken and
still not unpacking,

I forgot my end of the bargain.

I’m really sorry, Liver. I promise to do better in the future. Will you ever forgive me?