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Last night I wandered around the Manor for like 3 hours, spent $33 on 3 drinks, tried to dance but the DJ sucked kept dropping out…I was admired and “bumped into/groped/assaulted” etc…by some of our most offensive stereotypes…and standing on the 2nd floor watching the dance floor my alcohol-addled brain figured out my husband was NOT in the building, shakin’ his groove thing at 3 a.m. I felt bad when I got home because I had promised Cricket & Squeak I would find them a new daddy tonight. Late, too late the DJ slightly redeemed himself by playing Angie Stone’s “Wish I Didn’t Miss you” I like to think just for me.

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