Party hardy

I am always surprised how much people seem to like having me at parties, really hjow much they just like me.

They don't seem to mind hoisting me and my wheelchair up four or five steps. People I have never met offer to bring me anything, at least that's what they say. I'll bet if I said: "Bring me a hookah and dancing girls. Chop, chop," they wouldn't. But I have never tried, so whose fault is it that I am hookah-less and dancing with myself?

I went to two parties over the weekend and on Sunday Claren's puppy-raisers came over for lunch. I was totally a social butterfly.

I wish I enjoyed it more.

It is the hearing problems that are most painful at parties. I can't follow a group conversation, so I wind up just sitting there. At Lisa's book party, one of my friends there kept throwing me softballs to get me into the conversation, but I couldn't even here the softballs.

But I heard Lisa and her good friends talk about the book and her dedication. And then another friend of mine came and we chatted a bit. Then it was time to go. I had asked Mom and Dad to meet me at 9. Lisa even told me how much it meant to her that I was there.

On Friday night I stopped by a big company party to celebrate an anniversary. Just for about 15 minutes. That was loud, too.

I was able to have a few one-on-one conversations. This one gal earned my undying affection when she came all the around a table, just to tell me the cupcakes were good.

The only downside of all this partying is I am so tired. I don't know how Lindsay and Paris and those girls can party so hard. Drugs? Drugs might also help the sunburned face from my Sunday lunch.