The Weekend That Shall Not Be Photographed

Dear My Liver,

Dude. What can I say? I'm really sorry about what I just put you through. I mean, you know I can knock one back every now and again, but the Four Day Booze Deluge was probably a little more than you were prepared for.

My Bad.

Love,
Me

Dear Ruby,

I am very sorry about any permanent damage that you may have sustained while in my care this weekend. Be thankful that your auntie is competent, a light sleeper and was sober enough to get up with you. I was apparently not.

Oops,
Mama

Dear Kirsten,

Oh my God. Could you seriously shut your gaping pie hole for just one second? I mean, did you really have to talk about that? And what about that? Now that was embarrassing. Really. You were all, " Hi new friend that I have as my captive for the next four days, now I am going to totally unload everything I ever did in my whole life including that one time at band camp and possibly totally humiliate myself and did you bring a bucket? Because seriously, you are going to need one to catch all the verbal diarrhea."

Shut up already.

Kirsten

Dear Barb,

Hi. It was great. So very great. I had an absolutely amazing time with you laughing harder than was probably reasonable. Sooooo. About the totally spilling my guts without provocation...... Please forgive me if I fail to make eye contact with you in the future.

Love,
Kirsten