I got up on Saturday morning, early as usual, ready to get everything ready to go to a 4th of July party. The party was being thrown by one of my husband's friends he hadn't seen in years, so he was very excited. I was excited about driving down to the coast, since we hadn't been down there since the hurricane of last year.

It takes me hours to get ready, but I was ready, this morning, at 11 am. We headed down south at about noon. We stopped at one of my husband's friend's house, who was also going to the party, and had a beer and started down to Galveston. Traffic was horrendous, but we knew that it would be. John, my husband's friend knew of a short cut that would bypass all of the traffic on the main interstate. So far, so good.

We had no trouble finding the place. It was in an old Galveston beach house that had been renovated since the hurricane. Now, I don't know if you have ever seen the houses down there, but most of the beach houses are very small. Most are less than 1,200 square feet, but since my husband's buddy had his brother right next door, there was, or would have been, plenty of room to move the party indoors if need be.

Evidentally, 110 degree heat is no reason to move a party indoors. I would have thought that it might be, but what do I know????

We arrived at the house at about 2:30 pm, and promptly learned that we were the first ones there, since the party didn't start until 6 pm.... 6, f**kin' PM!!! I don't know who's f up this was. "...but since you're here I need someone to make the jello shots, put up the banners, put on the table cloths, display the food........." At that point, I wanted to scream. Keep in mind that my brain is melting and running out of my ears.

I was prepared to help. What else was there to do? I had never even made regular jello in my life, but (I am told) the jello shots came out perfectly. Yea, for me!

My husband was hoping to see a lot more of his friends from college, but not many of them showed. Hubby and I, both, had migraines by 6 pm. We couldn't stay out in the sun any longer. Luckily enough, here came a few young fellows who said we could crash a hotel swimming pool with little difficulty. I jumped at the idea, and we were out the door to the pool without so much as a "catcha later". The host of the party was a pretty laid back dude. He would understand.

When we got to the pool, it was like an oasis in the desert. It was cool. There were drinks. It should have been a lot of fun... but remember those sun headaches??? I felt nauseated about 90% of the time we were there. I drank about 4 Pellegrinos, and felt somewhat better. My husband crashed on a lounge chair and didn't move. He laid there for about 2 and a half hours, but did not recover. I felt like I was going to hurl at any moment. "Guys, can we head back? We are not feeling well"

We were going to party like in college??? What happened? I feel so old. I feel as if I might have really died of heat stroke like those old people you hear about so frequently on the news. People really die!

We tried to return to the party, but could not go the extra mile, despite cries of, "give it another hour... You'll get a second wind." We left.

We left feeling sickly and dorky.

We left feeling nauseated and old.

We left to face hellacious traffic on the interstate home.

When we finally got home we both took cold showers, cranked up the A/C, and watched Jeopardy! That is what us old folks do. We couldn't have been more content.

Adios, youth!

Good Riddance.