For the past couple of Fridays, we have been hitting the happy hour at Lure pretty hard. But this past Friday night I went overboard and ended up seeing stars. I haven't been that wine-soaked since my last Christmas party at Morgan Stanley, when at least a dispatcher put me in a black car home. Even then, the trip from the sidewalk up to my apartment seemed long and unnerving. I guess you're never too old to regress into adolescence; it just takes longer to recover.