I had been in the bathroom for quite a while at my parents after the party. “Are you alright?” my sister said so blithely. I had fallen into the bathtub fully clothed and replied, “I’m fine!” She opened the door and as I sat up, blood poured from my head, down my face and into my mouth.
You see, my Aunt Jippy throws good parties. It was her 50th birthday party that night, and I had a blast with my family just eating, drinking, and dancing to Frank Sinatra covers. Very atypical for me.
As soon as I got back to my apartment, I called my best friend, Gabrielle Thora Sweder. I left her a slurred yet detailed voicemail about my escapade of the night and compared it to one we had together in the past. Continue reading ““Best Friends for Death””