I remember puffing on a cigar, sitting on a giant sequinned cushion, not having an accent, some guy giving me a fright -> me spilling red wine on my pristine white shirt, taking my top off in the bar's kitchen to douse it with soda. The soda worked! I saw my cousin, also. This morning I slept through my alarm. All that is helping is gratuitous Crosby Stills and Nash.