Ball till you Fall
That’s right kids, I’m having a formal.
Right now you might be thinking one of the following:
1) It’s about time she sent the invite
2) Jessica Sontheimer? When is the last time I talked to her?
3) Who the heck has a formal?
Let me address each of these thoughts . . .
1) I know I promised this September 1, but I’ve been busy. Sorry friends.
2) I know, right? It’s been way to long since we have last hung out and we must catch up. Last I heard you were (insert life fact here). I’d love to know how things have been going for you. (despite my tone, I really am sincere. I promise)
3) I have many things to celebrate.
a) I’m back in the hood. (Hooray Berkeley!)
b) I have a new roomie that I need to properly welcome. (Hooray Tim Feher!)
c) And above all, who doesn’t love a good formal? Exactly.
So here is the deal. October 18, you, yes you, should come to Berkeley Ball. Formal attire is suggest and highly encouraged. You can hoosier it up in a camo dress, be one with our neighbors to the north and wear a Canadian Tuxedo or you can let your imagination take you places that you’ve always wanted to go. I’ll have some kegs (note the s behind keg) and a lot of other goodies to sip on/munch on and then we will get our groove on. I don’t care when the last time I saw you was. I’m all about a good reunion. Bring who ever you care to spend the evening with. It’s going to be outside, so I also suggest a jacket if you are one of those people who are always cold. I’m saying that things start at 7. I have a feeling me and Tim will be drinking before that so feel free to stop by whenever.
So there you have it. I hope to see you all then. If not, then I hope life is treating you well. And congrats on (insert life fact here).
Some updates:
1) Prizes for best Ballfit. Look sharp out there kids.
2) Silent Auction. Need I say more?
3) Door Prizes worth writing home about. So good you won’t want to email, you’ll snail mail.
email me: jessica.sontheimer@gmail.com for the address

I do want to attend, but David Byrne is in town that night, and OBLIVIA and her husband and I have had tickets for months now. Next time!
Well, maybe you should E-Mail me the address just in case.
Crap I made it! The cheez balls were tight. And the leftover Little Caesar’s. And the Ten High.