next-door neighbors

The next-door neighbors invited C and me over for dinner last night -- some sort of yummy vegetarian Indian concoction. We love our next-door neighbors; they're around the same age as we are, and they're incredibly funny, so we were glad to go over for dinner. I bought a bottle of Chiraz on the way home from work, and we took it over there with us.

The next-door neighbors have the distinction of being even more easily-amused than I am. When there is nothing to do, they're gifted at making up entertainment for themselves and for others. They have a collection of wigs to use for dress-up, for instance, and there's always booze to be had to further the cause a little. Last night, the wigs stayed safely put away, but after the four of us polished off three bottles of wine, they pulled out the sketch pads, and we started drawing portraits of one another with charcoal pencils.

Next-door neighbor drew a (really flattering) portrait of me that looked nothing like me; it looked a bit like Catherine Zeta-Jones, though, which seemed in keeping with the Chicago theme that C and I kept extending through the evening. I drew a quick portrait of everyone in the room, and to my (rather inebriated) eye, some of them came out pretty well. Much laughter ensued, and we didn't stumble home (it was only next door, after all) until after midnight.

Needless to say, the morning, in which I had to attend a project management seminar, was a bit painful. It wasn't a hangover or anything like that -- I don't get hangovers -- but I was painfully tired when I crawled out of bed in the morning.

It's not so much that I'm against drunken debauchery; it's more that I should probably refrain from it on Monday nights.