Oh, what a feeling! Is it me you're looking for? 'Cause I'm dancing on the ceiling...

I went to the Leukemia Ball with my friend M in early March. Lionel Ritchie was performing and M and I broke away from our pack to get ourselves to a good vantage point on a very overcrowded with black-tied DC uppercrusticals. (How did we get here?) Ah, being in a crowd of Washingtonians is always a delight. The women in their 50's who dress like they are 20. The women in their 20's who dress like they are 50. A confused bunch to be sure.

We broke to the front of the stage, much to the chagrin of the nasties behind us and much to the delight of one Mr. Ritchie, who brought his surprisingly sweaty self over to hand molest M for a solid minute, again to the chagrin of the nasties behind us. Seriously, at first it was all like "Go M! He loves ya, babe!" and then as it progressed, it got more and more uncomfortable and I started going "Stop it! Lionel Ritchie! Stop hand raping my friend."

After the show, we broke into the photo line and this exchange occurred:
M: You were my first..!
Lionel: (looking aghast) !
M: (finishes thought) concert.
Lionel: (looks relieved)

So there was some more chatter, then the photographer got antsy, hollered at us and this is what resulted.

I look horrendous, Lionel looks crazy and M is so pretty. Like how she matched her shoulder thingie with the colors of the banner?

That dress I am wearing is soo pretty, but 2 sizes too big and therefore would fall off if I bent over in any manner. Dangerous!