�

Everyone has a friend like her. A bundle of kinetic and potential energy who's mission in life, it seems, is to have a good time. This relentless and respect-commanding endeavor takes her across time zones and borders and eventually, drops her right on your door.

I had prepared for Broadway's arrival on Thursday with 2 nights in a row of sleep spanning hours. Hours and hours. I'm talking double-digit sleeping here. I thought it would be enough.

I also thought she was only staying for three nights, was bringing only one friend, and had the partying stamina of a normal person.

I thought wrong.

Broadway's dedication to the art of the party is admirable and decisive. For instance, on Friday night (the evening of a day that had already seen me stumbling into work that morning hung-over and exhausted) we got an early start on the pre-drinking at a cantina on Sunset Blvd. Drawn to the jukebox when we walked in like a moth to the flame, our party was forced to wait (and order more drinks) until Broadway's request of one Mr. Jon BonJovi's classic "Living on a Prayer" played. Not only had the last jukebox patron fed the machine enough quarters to keep a radio station going for three solid hours, but they'd requested the most depressing, slow, non-Friday-night-on-Sunset-Strip fare imaginable. And yet, we had to stay until Broadway's songs had all played. And she got to dance to them. On the table. Sometime during the course of the evening, she also made me ride the bull at the Saddle Ranch, and drink a lot, and go to the Standard and dance until they closed and kicked us all out.

The rest of the weekend saw more of the same. Until last night. I drew the line. I was exhausted. They finally had a rental car so I didn't have to drive them around. They were planning on a night of swing dancing--something I wasn't particularly in the mood for. I wasn't going to go. I had it all planned out in my head. Perfect excuses for staying in--exhaustion, errands, bills to pay, TV to watch. I planned when and how and what I was going to say to Broadway to get out of it.

Needless to say, it totally, totally backfired. An hour later, I found myself drinking Malibu & pineapple juice and doing the jitterbug in Los Feliz. When I fell into bed last night at 2am, I didn't even know my own name. Luckily this morning, I, Alicia O'Sullivan, was totally fine and got to work on time.

Ahem.

However, I will say, thanks in full to Broadway, I have a new crush/cowboy boyfriend, have a bruised and swollen right hand, a new pair of shoes, and will be roller-skating with Jack Black and Adam Sandler on Saturday.

I guess everyone needs a friend like Broadway. But holy mother if I won't be asleep on the couch five minutes before I even get home tonight.