The Fantabulous Life of Miss Mary Anne

So, I got home on Friday night and immediately made a pitcher of margaritas to celebrate the weekend. I will confess that I do not make my margaritas from scratch, sadly. I use a mix. It’s just easier and tastier, especially if you use the Stirrings margarita mix (not the flavored ones, the original) or the Williams Sonoma ones (ditto on original vs. flavored). Partly, because when they add the fruit flavor, it makes them too sweet (and oddly thick) but mainly because the original is an excellent base– if you want strawberry margaritas, just dump a bunch in the blender. Yummy and it doesn’t end up tasting like cough syrup.

Anyway, I was salting the glasses (people have in issue with this and buy complicated salts blah blah blah– seriously, just grind a bunch of salt onto a salad plate [or pour salt from the shaker if you don't have a grinder, but get a grinder, just one of the disposable pre-filled ones that are so damn cheap these days]  anyway, grind the salt onto a plate, rub a slice of lime around the rim of the glass, put the glass upside down on the salty plate, twist and voila. If you don’t have any limes, put a little bit of water on a different salad plate, put the glass upside down on the plate twist, shake off any excess water [carefully! Don't drop the glass!]  and then do your salty plate thing.)

Anyway, I was salting the rims when Claire came up with Damian. Damian was, as always, saying how boring and stogy DC was and how he was ready to throw the towel in and move to New York or San Fransisco. Claire started singing “Sante Fe” from RENT at him.  I just got down another glass and poured the drinks.

So we hung out with Damian for awhile. Another pitcher of margaritas later Avery and some other people were there and Damian ran out to get a ton of sushi and more booze. It quickly degenerated into a Madonna dance party. Before anyone makes some crack about gays boys or drag queens and Madonna, let me just say I totally started it. Not that they didn’t join in, but if you want to get your groove on in your own living room, Madonna’s got your back. But not this new shit that’s coming out. Classic 80s stuff– Like a Virgin, Material Girl, Like a Prayer… not that her new stuff totally sucks, but it’s not nearly as good for your living room party.

I woke up at 10 this morning on the couch, still completely dressed, by glasses digging into the side of my face, giving me a complete headache. D’oh.

Claire, bless her heart, had already cleaned up, had coffee brewing, and was frying eggs. What the hell would I do without her?!