Bad Idea called me a “sexpot” last night. Twice. (Bad Idea repeats himself a lot when he’s drunk. But you probably could have guessed that.) I find this very entertaining.

Much good, old-school drunken fun was had at the bar last night. I’m paying for it a little today, but since I’m only unpacking today in the mostly-air-conditioned apartment (and continuing to Just. Not. Think. about the amount of dissertation-related work I’m not doing), I really shouldn’t complain. Oh, and blackberry lemonade is just about the most amazing invention ever, in my opinion–even without vodka (though I imagine drinking it with vodka would end this hangover a lot faster).

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