My brain doesn't want to work today. That's what happens when you spend the entire weekend Drunk and making trouble.

I don't often go out with a big group of girls, but for Super Bowl Sunday I did. (Watching the game with girls masks my utter ignorance of the sport.) Three out of the five of us were blonde and that meant lots of free beer and shots, especially from my buddy "Hey You." (Note: Men go crazy about nicknames. If you give a guy a nickname, he won't leave your side the entire night.)

I decided I absolutely love the Super Bowl, even though I've never once in my life watched it before. Actually, I didn't really watch it this year. But that's besides the point. Drinking on a Sunday afternoon feels like summer again. Who invented this Super Bowl thing anyway? Whoever you are, dude, I love you, almost as much as I love Hey You. (Because it wouldn't have been the total drunken debauchery it was if not for Hey You's generosity.)

There was plenty of other drinking this weekend too, including a very inebriated Restaurant Week dinner with one of my best friends from college. She's crazy about my new boyfriend. We walked to her apartment after dinner practicing shouting "I love you" on Amsterdam Avenue. For some future time she hopes we'll get to. After that, we went to a party at her place, where I tried to undress my ex, and then text messaged a former hook-up.

The funny thing is, I don't want to sleep with anyone but my boyfriend. For me, the drunk text message is not about sex but about flirting. I need to flirt when I'm drunk. It's an addiction.

I'm such a little devil sometimes.