playa, playa, playa, playaaaa

so what's the deal with my wine-tolerance level going way down when i'm out and about as opposed to when i'm sitting at home?

i don't quite get it. how is it that i can have a handful of glasses at home and not feel very much, yet after 2.5 out at a restaurant, i'm telling my refrigerator to "go to sleep!" that's right. after coming home from happy "hour" this week, i proceeded to make myself a makeshift dinner consisting of a bagel... cinnamon toast... and trix. then, when my refrigerator door didn't shut all the way on the first try, i exclaimed "GO TO SLEEP, FRIDGE!!!"

shortly thereafter, i said to myself, "no, YOU go to bed." and i did.