Yea, yea. I know.

It's been forever since I posted. Sorry kiddos, been busy and journeyed off to Costa Rica with a friend for a week. It was interesting to say the least.

I figured my July 4th was a little more interesting and in light of Michael Jackson's demise, I will share this moment of Jonesy goodness with you.

So I went to a party at my friend LB's apartment. She lives in a SICK apartment with tons of space and a roof deck for fireworks viewing. Anywho, I decided that it would be smart to drink an entire bottle (ok, I admit, it was in a box) of sangria before 10 pm. Whoops.

So the party was fun and it got all fuzzy and stuff and my signature 4-drink slur came out, which is again, whoops.

I journeyed home and happened upon my new neighbors who moved in down the hall. They are lovely gay men who invited me and the roomies to a housewarming (which I didn't attend). They must have threatened me with a good time, because the next thing you know, I was partying down at Therapy, which is probably the most fun gay bar ever.

And besides, don't threaten me with a good time because I'll go crazy on you like that chick from Rock of Love.

And did I. Yes I did. Oh how I danced. As if angels were shooting from my jazz hands and my feet were made of jumping beans, I boogied my way around the dance floor to lord only knows what. Okay fine, I was skip jumping to "Ease on Down the Road" as if I were Diana Ross and a young, alive Michael Jackson rolled into one twenty-something wasted off sangria white chick.

Now, I left with the neighbors and came home, and they went back out (I did not). Although I did drink more wine from a box.

And that my friends, is how I celebrated the birth of our nation. God Bless the U.S.A.