I need my photographic documentation!

Right now, I can't remember last night.

I'm at the point where your head throbs, and you want desperately to sleep, but you can't let yourself become unconcious again. That's what you spent last night doing.

Brie has my photographic documentation. I called her half an hour ago, worried. "Can you bring my digital camera home please?"

So far, all I remember is:

Getting in a cab with Brian, who was dressed as an asparagus. (Which, as you can guess, was the highlight of my night. It was a brilliant costume.)

Fast forward to the end of the night, when the party was still in full-swing but Brie insisted I take my heels off to walk down the stairs, where she fetched me a cab, and I went home.

Great.

So what happened in between?

I have skin missing from my ankles and bruises forming.

I seriously need Brie to come home with my camera so I can fill in the blank spots.