Saturday night

It's Charity Ball time! Each year my dad and step-mom call me about a day before and beg me to go to the Charity Ball. This year, they only had one ticket - so Mr. Insomniac couldn't go. He was happy. I was pissed. I tried to beg off and get my Grandmother to go in my place, but she didn't want to go either. So I had to suck it up. And get glammed up. Insomniac style. lol. Which means I shaved my legs and painted my toenails.

They told me to be ready at 5:30. So I had to rework some plans, stop cleaning the house, etc. so I could fully prepare. And then they call me at 6:25 and tell me that they're just leaving the house. In Long Beach. So that means they're about, oh, 45 minutes away. So I threw on a pair of scrubs and went back to cleaning the kitchen. Finally they show up, and we're off to the Charity Ball. My dad's incredibly pissed, since they're late and spends the entire time swearing at the Westside traffic and fuming that he has to drive all the way to Hollywood. I was amused.

Anywho when we get there, they immediately get besieged by colleagues. I get pushed out front - "this is my daughter" x 10. It was a little funny though when someone called my dad Dr. DadInsomniac and he was like, actually, we're all Dr. Insomniac - I'm InsomniacPhD, he's InsomniacMD, step-mom is InsomniacEdD. But that stopped being funny after the third time. After they introduce me this guy named Paul who asked me what school I go to (My reply: I'm 31.) and tells me that he tried to get his dad to spend his college tuition on some painting ("It auctioned off for 1.2 million last week - not a bad investment! heh heh ha etc."), I decided I was done with all the mingling and head to the open bar.

Now this should explain the Sunday morning post.

We ate food, people got some awards, and my step mom won this: