Social Guy had a party at a disco in a faraway suburb, and I went with a girl from work and one of her friends. The venue was totally cheesy, but I had a great time. It turns out that an evening of dancing to 80s disco music was a good idea.

And, if I may say so, I showed a lot of heart. When we first arrived, I looked around and thought, "I will never, ever have another boyfriend." At about eight o'clock, after a couple of drinks, I went into the restroom and cried in a stall for five minutes. Then I dried my tears, powdered my nose, and went back out to the dance floor. I danced with the boys, sang loudly with the girls, and raked in the compliments on my new haircut. We danced until one o'clock, and then I came back to civilization with Social Guy, who took me out for a burrito as big as my head before delivering me to my door.

Today I've been reading "The Surrendered Single." I haven't decided what I think about it yet. I also went for a long walk, to clear the gin residue from my brain. (The ibuprofen helped too.) For tomorrow, I have the following agenda: sleeping in, drinking coffee, reading a British home dec mag, another long walk, and maybe a movie. Or a nap.

It's okay. I'm okay. I have heart. The wind is kicking up outside and tomorrow will be a lot cooler than today was. And I will be fine, even if I find myself crying in another restroom at some point.

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