In Which Our Heroine Learns the Definition of a Good Party
Ah, that was quite the BBQ last night. Re-defined "good party." How so? Well, a good party is no longer one with sufficient booze (although that was the case), or good entertainment (although that was also the case) or even one where the police are called (although come to think of it, that happened too.) It turns out that a *really* good party is......

.....one where you clean up with power tools.

Having been a little more than slightly intoxicated (and the fact that my cell phone battery died, which means that I couldn't retrieve the phone number for my taxi service), the spare room, a clean t-shirt to sleep in and listerine (no spare tooth brush, but I survived.) was offered, and I took it. I woke up this morning to come downstairs and discover Mike doing the clean up, bless his wee cotton socks. He'd done a pretty good job, but somehow a shot glass had slipped into the garbage disposal, and was not going to be extricated. My initial impression was that I would at least give it a damn good try, and suggested using tweezers. This didn't help, but it did seem better than Mike's attempt, using a large wrench. I felt so clever, but I didn't know what I was in for. In the end, Mike broke the glass and fished the pieces out. Even breaking the glass proved difficult, but the wrench did the trick. Then, getting the pieces out (don't want to jam up the disposal) seemed like it was going to be ok as Mike has one of those chain mail or whatever gloves, so that he wouldn't get sliced. But that wasn't working as he couldn't feel anything to get it out of the drain still. The solution?

Shop vac. Mike hauled it up from the basement, and then just stuck the hose down in the drain and flipped the switch. Worked like a voodoo charm.

I admit, such a procedure never would have occured to my non-technical mind. But it did make sense after such a good party.