So yes, I went to my fancypants party last night, bangs still not quite grown out, but presentable. I had a drink, (okay, two. Maybe three. But no more than that.) chatted with friends I hadn't seen in a while, and might've actually taken to the dance floor when they played the Stray Cats.
Luckily for my writing, I'm revising a chapter that takes place at a fancypants party similar to this one. I took particular notice of everything going on around me, and indeed had an epiphany for my climactic scene, which, as of now, has MAKE THIS FUNNIER scrawled in the margins. Hooray!
Sadly, I drank too much to remember what it was. I've been pondering it all day. I even tried pulling my dress out of the dry cleaning bag and smelling it, in the hopes the scent of peaches would bring it all back to me.
What tricks do you do to jog your memory?
(And remember, kids: wide-lipped martini glasses and constantly refilled tasty fruity drinks don't mix.)
UPDATE: Here's the NYTimes coverage of the party. Shockingly, I'm not mentioned.