It's just a game.

After two nights of insane craziness and late nighty-ness, I am sitting here on Sunday morning in a daze.

I have a new passion in my life. I'll give you a clue as to what it is. It's a card game. It rhymes with Al Roker. Or at least his last name.

Good God, I'm crazy addicted. I have sat and sat and sat and played for many, many hours.

And you know what else? I'm actually GOOD. This is perhaps why I like it so much. I'm usually NOT so good at games and sports and the like, so kicking some ass feels pretty damn good.

It's also a great game for hanging out with people. I've had hour long stretches this weekend in which I had to put my head down I was laughing so hard. Or had to go outside just to give my stomach a break from the laughter.

My liver, it doesn't like the game so much. Alcohol is obviously a requirement to the game.

As I'm sitting here on five hours of sleep, drinking glass after glass of water, I'm already itching to play again.

I cannot. For I have to MAKE very many invitations to one TTT's bridal shower. Yes. MAKE. I spent an hour and a half with a sales lady at one of those crafty paper stores who was all, "All you do is THIS THIS and THIS and LOOK, it's adorable!"

PRAY for me. I don't have one ounce of crafty capableness in my body.

I think I heard her laugh when she sent me on my way. I will be at this all day.