Girls' night out

I'm a bit dead -- less because I drank too much than due to little sleep -- but we had a great time. Lots of food (same place as Tuesday, so there were potato crisps and steak and many, many other delicious things) and wine, talking about men, politics, men, life and men.
Ursula, already slightly tipsy: So what's the name of your guy again?
Me, maybe a little more tipsy: He's not *my* guy, unfortunately, and the name is Mr H (his first name)
Ursula, guffawing: What? He's from ... and his first name is ...? That's SO cliché! You poor thing!
Ursula and Stefanie start wildly inventing ...-ish sounding first names.
Stefanie, wiping off tears of laughter: Well, it really doesn't matter, does it? *starts giggling again*
Me: No, not really. For all I care, his name could be Amalia, so long as I get to say "Let's do it again, Amalia"
Stefanie: Spank me, Amalia. No, that's definitely weird.
Ursula, attempting to be reasonable: Because "Fuck me, Amalia, isn't?"

Wonderful, wonderful evening.

The thought of tennis at 9 makes me slightly queasy, though. And then again at 11. Twice 1,5 hours. And maybe gym in the afternoon. Tonight we're all going to a wine-and-cheese tasting thingy, and last night's dinner had a gazillion calories, so I really ought to do all the exercise I can. But it's going to be fun. I love my girls, I really do.

That's it folks.
*slightly shaky wave to f-list*