� Glad I won't have to do that again � 2006-12-16 � 12:39 a.m. �

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There is ABSOLUTELY nothing "fun" about the bar scene.

And, maybe less so for girls with brain tumors who can't drink... though this girl tends not to drink with or without Tumerella in tow.

I sat between my husband and a nice guy I'd never met... who got increasingly more glazy-eyed as the clock went round... and either he didn't hear me or he tried to ignore the fact that the man beside me was my husband... and I wasn't really interested in doing anything more with him than chatting about our boring little lives and our excellent taste in music.

"I dunno 'bout you," he said, "but, it's all about Anne Murray for me."

I think sober he and I could probably be friends.

And then... the party man arrives. You know the type... the coiffed boy who thinks he IS... but he isn't.

To which point i know when to leave.... I say to my husband "That guy and I are going to fight if we stay... drink up."

I could tell by the greasy way he eyed me up but never bothered to introduce himself... and I never trust a man who won't look me in the eyes and shake my hand...

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