By The Way...
You really should take that $20 you were going to spend on those three drinks at the bar this weekend and go buy bottled water to donate to Mississippi and Louisiana. Things are pretty bad down there. You can find someone who's going down there somewhere in your city, I'm sure. In KC there are a bunch of radio stations who are taking donations at 119th & Metcalf.
Musings on Jayhawk Basketball
Max Falkenstien is retiring. I'll miss him. It was comforting to hear the same guy announcing almost every game. :( At least we still have our old stand-by supporter,
Dicky V. And yes, I still read the Journal-World. You can take the girl out of Lawrence, but you can't take the Lawrence out of the girl.
What's up with our thug players and
ex-players (and
ex-players)? I'm not trying to bash Self,
at all, but we never had thug morons when Roy was in charge (oh wait...Lester Earl). I'm glad Self is a good enough man to boot these guys. Having a good team is wonderful, but it's not worth letting these guys get away with committing crimes. Coincidentally, the Chiefs are causing a ruckus at training camp, too.
I'm glad Roy won. I was mad and betrayed when he left, but I understand his reasons. He was a great coach for us, and he deserved another win. I will acknowledge, however, that I was not feeling so genial toward him two years ago.
Self is changing Late Night around a bit, I've heard, but I can't find any info on it. That's frustrating. Not that I've gone in a couple of years, but I am kind of obsessed and I like to know things.
So, this Rush kid finally made a decision and is going to KU. After wavering, a lot. I sympathize. Our team is a gamble right now for incoming freshman. On the one hand, you have have a team with a long, long history of being on top. Then you have the last season to think about...I think he made the right decision, though. Our team rocks.
Where can I find out what rank we'll come in at? Of course it won't be #1 like last year, but that was both a blessing and a curse anyway.
Chiggers
I went to a barbeque on Saturday night and was attacked. Apparently I was sitting in a large infestation of chiggers, because my feet and ankles and legs are covered with dozens of red welts. I am in the middle of a war against my own skin. The itching is overwhelming. I almost died during a meeting this morning. I want to cut off the welts with a knife. I want to peel the skin off of my legs.
Shanshu's mom was over for dinner last night, and I was complaining to her about my chigger bites. I was sitting there, living in my own happy world, contentedly scratching the Jesus out of my ankles and feet, when she said the words that almost changed my life forever: "Don't worry, they'll die soon."
I think my panic-stricken face gave it away, or it could have been my screaming in horror. "You didn't know that chiggers burrow themselves into you skin, did you?" She asked. No I didn't know! Somehow all of my life I had thought that they just bite you and GO AWAY. I looked down at my red bumpy feet and imagined that 30 or so little bugs crawling under my skin. Then she proceeds to tell me that when the bites itch, it's the little bugs moving around.
Well, that did it. I thought I was going to get ill. I contemplated cutting the little buggers out with knives, and to hell with the scars.
Bugs, under my skin? AAAAAH!
This morning I came into work, and the first thing I did was go on the internet to try and figure out the quickest way to kill my nasty little parasites. I found out some relieving and interesting things.
First, chiggers do not burrow into your skin. That's one of those old wives tales. They are above your skin, and attach to a weak point like a hair follicle or pore to eat. Second, they do stay on there eating for a few days; however, it's more likely that bathing and scratching has already brushed them off. Third, like I thought before, the itching is a reaction to the saliva they inject into your skin.
For more info, check out this
enlightening, life saving article.
I am very relieved. I am so glad I looked that up and realized that chiggers do not burrow into one's skin. Life is better, as I sit here happily scratching myself.
Where the Sidewalk Ends
What a car day this has been! I have been driving my mom's car this week, since she's in Ireland and mine broke down last weekend. My car is fine now, but I haven't had time to go pick it up yet, so I'm still driving Mom's. This afternoon I went out to get into her car and it didn't start...which is a huge problem. I have to take 2 kids to their foster homes at 5pm, which will be a little difficult without a vehicle! I called my brother, to ask for his help, but I couldn't reach him. So I called my boyfriend, but he was in a car wreck this morning and is too shaken up to drive. So I began wandering around my office, searching for someone who could take me to get my car. I found someone after a few minutes, and she drove me to where my car is...my car and it's flat tire. Sigh. So I drove on the doughnut to my local Wal-Mart to get a cheapie tire put on. Once there, they informed me that I was lucky that I hadn't come on a Saturday, because the wait is really long on Saturdays. They told me that I was lucky, and right then the wait was only 2 hours. 2 hours?? I had to be back at work for a meeting in an hour! After fruitlessly trying to call co-workers to come pick me up again, I decided to walk it. After all, the Wal-mart runs along the interstate, as does my office, and is only 2 exits away from my office. It couldn't be that far, right?
So I started walking, me in my little heels and the humidity sweltering. My long-sleeved dress shirt didn't help the humid sweatiness of it all, either. I walked quickly along the sidewalk, optimistic about the rightness of my decision. To my chagrin, the sidewalk ended about a half mile into my journey and I was stuck with two options: the wet, muddy grass or the fairly busy street. I chose what I deemed to be the safest option, which was the grass. Have you ever tried walking in heels in the wet grass? Your heels dig into the mud, making it twice as hard to lift your foot. Then, your feet get wet and the lotion you put on after your shower that morning makes your feet slippery. This causes you take itty-bitty baby steps to prevent ankle-twisting and shoe-losing. After a while of itty-bitty baby steps in the mud, I decided that this was slowing down my progress too much. So I began to walk in the street.
I'm sure the cars were very annoyed with me that they had to swing wide of the curb to give me room, but I wasn't too concerned with that. Do you want to know why? Because of the HUGE CRAMP in my side. In truth, however, the cramp wasn't so bad when you compare it to the massive amounts of perspiration I was losing. At least the drops of perspiration were falling on my by-now cracked, blistered feet.
Well, I made it to my office. Between the front door and my office I had two people ask if I was okay. It must have been the beet-red face and the profuse sweating. So here I sit in my office, the door closed and locked and my shirt off to cool down. I've been through two glasses of water already (it's only been about 20 minutes since I got back) and am ACHING for a third.
I'm going to go drink water. You all have a good weekend.
Shit, where's my shirt?
Scum-Sucking Little Virus
Sometimes, no matter how much careful planning and double-checking you put into something, God comes down and takes a crap on your face.
I am going on vacation next Saturday. I've been planning this trip for months. It's all paid off, and all the details have been put painstakingly in place. I've spent hours on research and calculations, from getting the best car rental rates to getting the right mix of people to join me. I have spoken with representatives from airlines, car rental companies, and beach house rental companies more than I have spoken with my friends lately. Everything is set to be perfect; every bit of minutiae has been triple-checked. NOTHING can go wrong sans an act of God...
...and then I get an act of God. I share an office, and my officemate is sick. Like, really sick. Like, hasn't gotten out of bed in three days except to go to the doctor. Oh, and of course to come into work for an hour yesterday, the point of which I think was to try really hard to infect me as much as possible. Her doctor says that she has a virus that has been going around, and that this piece of dung virus puts people out of commission for 4-7 days.
As we all know, a virus can be in your system for 7-10 days before you show symptoms. She started getting sick on Monday. This means that for almost two weeks now, she has had this nasty little bug in her body. And outside her body, every time she breathed. Breathed in the same room as me for 8 hours a day. And she touched things, like the door knob, which I touch, too.
I swear to all that is sacred, if my trip is ruined because I am sick in bed for half the week, I will...I will...I will bitch loudly.
So my day today has been spent trying to reduce my likelihood of infection down to the smallest chance possible. I have wiped every surface, door knob, computer keyboard, phone and chair handle with Clorox wipes. I have been drinking water like I spent the last week drunk. I have taken every immune-boosting vitamin and herb I have ever heard about. I will force myself into bed early every night, tired or not. I WILL NOT FALL ILL!
So wish me luck as I try to ward off Murphy! Hopefully I shall find success...
Making out with a Movie Star.
So I had an interesting night last night. I had gone out to get drinks with a couple of my girl friends at this really posh bar near downtown KC. We had all been staying home for a while, and decided to live it up for one night, work or no work. We also decided that money was not going to be an object...which always leads to frightening things.
We were all dressed like little hos, I have to admit. Sam is really tall and she has these ginormous boobs, and she was wearing a shirt cut so low that we had to use double-sided tape to keep her in. The shirt also had no back, and every time she bent over you could see the whole show if you were standing to her side. She did that a lot, and we got three free rounds of drinks off guys for it.
I was completely wasted within about an hour. We were taking double shots of Hypnotq in between our drinks. We ended up buying an entire bottle of the stuff from the bar after about 30 inutes, because we taking so many shots. My friend Liz was in a wine mood, and so we also bought two bottles of our favorite wine. We sat at a small table by the dance floor and had a GREAT time. We must have had at least 15 different guys at our table throughout the course of the night.
At about 1am, Kate came running back to our table from a restroom break and excitedly told us that Hayden Christensen was in the bar! Of course we didn't believe her, because wouldn't we have known he was in town or something? So Sam went over to the bar to check it out. She came back and was freaking out: it was him!
So of course, in our drunkenness, we decided that we HAD to get him to sit at our table. Kate is the hottest of our friends, plus she was wearing a skirt so short you could see her thong when she walked; and trust me, she has a GREAT ass. So we sent her off to get him and continued our partying. A few minutes later, Kate came back...ON HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN'S ARM!
He sat down with us and was being way cool. He was totally flirty, of course, but all four of us were, too. He let me sit in his lap, and so in exchange I let him take a shot off my boobs. It was awesome! Anyway, after a few minutes it seemed like everyone in the club was coming by our table, and it was getting really annoying. Especially when other girls came by to try and steal our prize. Hayden suggested that we go up to the VIP room above the DJ. Uh, dud!
Yeah we'll go!
So up we went, and that's when things got nuts. I guess Liz decided that we needed to try and get Hayden to sleep with us. What's better than four girls, she figured? It was a sure thing. So in her drunken wonderness she whispered to him that we were all really horny and we were all really bi-sexual. He was, of course, very intrigued by this. He asked her to prove it, so she came over and sat in my lap. We started making out right there in the club! I have to admit it was getting really hot. Sam and Kate started getting jealous, because Hayden was totally get in the middle of us, so they tried to join in too. Before you know it, the five of us were practically doing it on the couch in the VIP room of the club! It was cool, because any other time that's happened at a club the bouncers have kicked me out. This time they left us alone, since it was a movie star.
Pretty soon the club closed down and the lights went on. At this point Sam was so gone she could hardly even kiss me anymore, so I decided to take her home. As far as I know, Kate and Liz went back to Hayden's hotel with him. I haven't talked to them yet today, but I'm guessing it was a good night!
I MADE OUT WITH HAYDEN! I MADE OUT WITH HAYDEN!
My blog is great
I hate it when people don't update their blog daily. I get resentful toward them for not entertaining me. I'll click on their blog link from someone else's blog, and realize it's the same thing I read yesterday, and silently curse them under my breath. I'll say to them that their blog sucks and I won't keep reading it if they don't update soon.
I, of course, rarely update my blog daily. I'd like to, but I run out of ideas. So I know this makes me a hypocrite, and I am trying really hard today to think of something interesting to say as to not be one of those people. As of right now, my creative juices are dried up.
Some blogs are really good and some aren't. Some are just plain horrible. An author can never tell. The best blogs, I've found, are the ones that are mainly interesting stories, with the occasional daily life thing mixed in. I mean, who wants to read about some dumb social worker who hates temping? I like the blogs that have a real pizzaz to them, like Shanshu and Pizzle. By the way Pizzle, your blog has come a long way. You got out of talking-about-life and into the interesting stories quickly. Your blog reminds me of Seinfeld, somehow. And of course we all know that Shanshu's writing style is just plain cool, which keeps us all coming back. Shanshu would say I'm biased, but I think I'm right.
My blog, for sure, is not all that interesting. I do a lot of talking about my life and my day on here. Most of my posts have to do with the search for a job and working a job and things I've done lately. This is good for those friends like Ryan and Anna who don't live in this country, but may read my blog to keep up on my life. It is not so cool for those other bloggers out there who find my blog by links on other blogs, and don't give a crap that I have two job offers in one week.
But you know what I've decided? I don't care. I can't force myself to come up with creative ideas every day just to keep people happy. I mean, I love writing this blog. Especially when I bitch about stuff. It makes me feel like my voice matters more than it would if I was just bitching to people around me. It entertains ME, and that's really what it's all about, isn't it? Yeah, sure, there are those blogs out there that you read, that are really funny or interesting. Mine probably isn't one of them, but I can't MAKE it be funny or interesting.
Besides, when I take over the world this blog is going to become history. Millions, nay billions, of people will read through my old entries to get insight into how I was
before I was the supreme ruler of Earth. It might even make them feel good to know that I went through the same twenty-something struggles as they did. I too struggled to find a job out of college, and then struggled to balance an entry-level salary against student loans and first cars and first nice apartments. I too had love drama (okay, well, that's kind of a lie since my relationship is actually really stable and healthy) and friend drama and hangovers and everything else. It will make them like me more and make them less likely to rise in rebellion.
Football Players
Well, what do you expect when you take some thug with half the IQ of the average person, baby them through college by helping them cheat with "special tutors," and then give them a million dollars a year? That they'll have the same respect for society that the rest of us have?
Football Players
Autopilot
I was on autopilot on the way to work this morning. I left my house, and the last thing I remember is looking at a white Mustang in my rear view mirror about two blocks from home. All of the sudden I'm a couple of blocks from work and don't remember the drive in between. Weird.
Shanshu is The Debil
Shanshu, you're lucky I like you or else I wouldn't be doing this. I will not subject anyone else by passing it along, however! So HA! Take my little rebellion against chains!
List five songs that you are currently digging - it doesn't matter what genre they are from, whether they have words...or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying right now. Post these instructions and the five songs (with artist) in your blog. Then tag five people to see what they're listening to.
Bring Me to Life by Evanescence
Hollaback Girl by Gwen Stefani...Shanshu, I got you into this song so this is so not copying!
Lying from You by Linkin Park
Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson...I know. I don't know why I like her, but I do. Back off.
This Kiss by Faith Hill...she's so happy.
Professional Anxiety
Hmmm, so I'm in a peculiar yet refreshing place right now. For two years I've been bitching about how the crappy the job market is, and how difficult it is to find work...especially in my field. Heck, it took me a year and a half to even find a job. Now I'm in the interesting position of having two employers vying for my mad skillz.I've been feeling less than perfectly happy with my current employment. At the first of July, my role's job description was redefined, and I did NOT like the definition. On a whim, I mean not very seriously at all, I threw my resume out in the world to see what happens. In the meantime (like, this morning) my boss pulled me into her office. She offered me a new position within the same agency that will take me back to the job the way I love it, and then told me that the agency would support/encourages me to go back for a Master's. They'd work with me on my practicum and provide a recommendation for admittance. Hmmm...The dilemma is this: I have an interview today at one of those places I just casually threw my resume at. The job is similar to what I'm doing now, but I would not be required to get further education to move to the next level, and it could potentially pay more.Now, with this news from my boss this morning, my desire to leave the agency in search of greener pastures is nill. On the other hand, this other agency would offer me more money, and the not having to go back to school for a while thing is really, really tempting...but then again, where else could you find an employer like the one I have who will baby you through grad school?I guess I'm going to this interview today to keep that door open. I'll see what they offer, and weigh my options again at that point.
Paralyzed
I was listening to the radio this morning and learned an interesting little tidbit that solves one of the great mysteries of my life. Several months ago, I was lying in bed and I dreamt that a very scary ghost was in the bedroom with me. I woke up from this dream and was still scared, so I tried to call for my boyfriend, who was in the living room. To my horror, I could neither move nor speak. This scared the CRAP out of me, and I started panicking inside. All of the sudden, however, I could speak and move again. I decided in my own head that I must have still been asleep and dreaming when I tried to call for him, but that never really sat right with me. It was prefectly clear, and there was no becoming awake transition between being able to move and not being able to. Maybe, I thought, there was a ghost in my room and it possessed me so I couldn't move or cry for help!Well, on the radio this morning I learned that while you dream, your brain releases a chemical that paralyzes your skeletal muscles. This is why you don't "act out" your dreams as you sleep. People who sleepwalk have a disorder where their brains don't release this chemical like it's supposed to. The DJ was asking the "sleep expert" about a very similar situation to mine, where he had woken up and couldn't move for a few seconds. The expert explained that what simply happened was that the brain accidentally kept releasing the chemical for a few seconds after it woke up. Very interesting!I feel better now knowing that I wasn't possessed by some demon ghost in bedroom that night.
Soon, the Human Male will Die Out.
Stolen from Penny, but I thought it was really interesting:"As I'm sure you know, human gender is defined by two genes the "X" (female) and "Y" (male). Females have "XX" and men have "XY". Right? Okay, here's where it gets interesting...Y'see, the "X" gene contains approximately 1500 strands of DNA and the "Y" gene contains (are you ready for this?) 78. Yep, just 78. Apparently the genes used to be the same size, but it seems that the male gene is having a shrinkage problem and will continue to do so until it's gone.Scientists have hypothesized that relatively soon (on the evolutionary timeline, that is) there will be no more male humans. They figure this could happen as soon as 125,000 years from now. I know, I know, this has nothing to do with us and ya gotta wonder if there will be a world left in 125,000 years, but I know all the women out there are snickering and thinking, "Who's the weaker sex? Huh? HUH?"All that girl-on-girl sex going on and no guys to buy the videos."
Put it in my Butt!!! - Warning, Explicit Posting!
I don't understand the obsession with butt sex. Men love butt sex, and I don't know why. Most guys can't even be in the same room with someone who is pooping, but they want to put their penises in our poopers. They want us to use anal beads and "go real slow" and get used to stretching that little hole out so they can get in it. I have a thing about butt sex. I'm scared to death of it, and for the most part of my life I've seen no reason to allow anyone to try it. Don't get me wrong, I know that a lot of people on the "receiving end" love it. I read an article about a guy who ruptured his trying to do it with a horse, he liked it so much. I have a really close friend who prefers it to regular sex. But I don't understand why regular sex isn't good enough, and I also am afraid of hurting it.I mean, haven't you ever had one of those big poos that hurt? After you were done you were like, "Oh my God that almost ripped me a new one! Thank God that's over!" Why would I want to put something bigger and harder than the one of those poos in my bum on purpse? Wouldn't it, like, tear the delicate little tissues? Wouldn't I like, bleed and cry?I've sought advice on this. I've been told to work up to it. You know, go to the local dirty store and purchase aids in increasing degrees of length and width. So does that mean that I'll get more stretchy, or that I'll get used to the pain, or that the skin will get tougher if I use these things? And anyway, if something is so very obviously structurally difficult to accomplish, is it worth doing at all?I've also been told that there is pleasure involved for those on the receiving end. I've been told it's like that warm, fuzzy feeling you get after you've squeezed a large one off. I've been told that you can orgasm from it. I've been told that there are as many pleasure receptors in there as in the vagina. So, if that's true, why does it hurt for a while before it feels good? Wouldn't it just feel good from the get go?
I Love My Country
Reasons I LOVE my country:
1. Our foundational principles. Taking aside any hypocritical actions, this country was based upon very, very, very good principles and we should be proud. I will never stand for anyone to make blanket derogatory comments about the U.S. around me.
2. We have every possible beauty found in the world. Mountains, plains, ice caps, tropics, etc.. We have the privilege of being able to rely only on ourselves for every type of resource we need (not that we always d0). We have enormous diversity of ethnicity and race who live side by side in happiness.
3. Our ability to speak out against the things going on in our own country that we dislike.
4. We are nice people. We may be louder and fatter and richer than some other nationalities, but we are around the board nice people. We welcome strangers and we help them. We welcome each other and we help them. It's fantastic.
5. We are good at a lot of things. We do well at the Olympics, we have Hollywood, we have great business sense, and we are for the most part philanthropists. Other countries (as much as they make fun of it) admire our culture and want parts of it. You can't go to any country in Europe and NOT see our restaurants, movies, TV shows and products.
Reasons I dislike my country:
1. For allowing people like those backwards hicks in Kansas to debate not teaching evolution and consider teaching creationism/intelligent design. Let's stop teaching gravity, too, please. And most of physics. This makes me want to scream. I hate them. And let's not
even get started on the gay thing.
2. People can't understand that we can't pull out of Iraq yet. We should never have gone in, but now we have an obligation to not leave their country in ruins. And this is coming from someone who's brother has been there twice already and is going back next summer.
3. President Bush. Although lately I've been trying to focus on the decisions he makes that I like, nothing he does that I'm in favor of will ever make up for even 5% of my dislike toward him for this stupid, stupid "war".
4. Gas-guzzling SUV drivers. With the exception of people who drive them because they have lots of kids or stuff to haul around regularly. Do you not understand that this country is overly dependant on foreign fuel sources? Oh, and stop bunnying about the price of gas. First, it's a lot cheaper here than in most other countries (including, like,
all of Europe), and second, you could be like me and only spend $30 a month on gas if you bought a smaller vehicle.
5. We are so centered on ourselves. I dislike how few people study about other cultures and/or travel outside our own shores. And no, Mexico does not count. We live in a global world, and we should face up to that. We should go to Europe or Asia or Africa or South America or Australia as often as they come here, because it would make us smarter(sic). I also will include people who DO travel but don't respect the customs of the country they travel to. A friend of mine is going to Ireland with her husband soon. Her idiot husband told me "I'm going to go up to the first native I see and as them to say 'I lost me lucky charms'." Oh, my, God.
Wedding Etiquette Has Gone to Pot
Some may say I am old-fashioned when it comes to etiquette, especially given my age. I don't wear white or off-white below the waist between between Labor and Memorial Days. I write thank-you notes. I dress to the occasion, based on the time of day and style of invitation. I was raised in a family that puts value on propriety, and I was "finished", if you will, in a sorority that held weekly etiquette dinners. I know which fork to lay out when I'm hosting a dinner, and I know where to put the napkin when I'm leaving the table. Some people think I'm silly and antiquated. I think I'm doing the right thing to show gratitude toward and not be rude to people. Apparently I'm one of the few.I have been to a few weddings this summer, and I am SHOCKED at how rude people can be. I'm talking both about those attending the wedding and those hosting. Here's a list of stupid things that people have done:1. I've been to two weddings and seen a person or two in jeans. Trust me, you're not getting into my wedding dressed like that. It's disrespectful to the amount of care, time and effort the couple and their parents put into the event. Not to mention the fact that one was an evening wedding, which apparently doesn't mean dressy anymore.2. I've been to two weddings in the last two years and received no thank-you note for the gifts I've given. I was asked to perform in a wedding and was not invited to the rehearsal dinner, nor did I receive a thank-you note for my effort. That's the last gift those people will be getting from me.3. I recently received a wedding invitation that asked for donations to the honeymoon. Okay, first of all, you should never, ever, ever mention gifts on an invitation. You are asking the invitee to celebrate with you, not demanding presents. Gifts are optional, people; you should never expect one. If you are inviting people simply to get presents from them, then you are an asshole. Secondly, it is never acceptable to ask for money as a gift. The gifts you receive are not to finance your honeymoon, they are to help you fill your home with the things you need/want. That wedding invitation tempts me not to give anything at all because I am so shocked by it's extreme rudeness.4. I've been invited to a shower that was hosted by the sister of the bride. When did it become okay for family to host a shower? I can remember being taught that family should NEVER host the shower, because again it's asking for gifts. The shower should always be hosted by non-family members, like close friends, bridesmaids, or co-workers. I'm sure there are more rude things to come as people begin to become careless about offending their guests. I bet in 20 years I'll get something in the mail that says, "This is to announce the wedding of So-and-So. They cannot afford to throw a wedding, so please send your gift to blah blah blah."
Life Not Working for the Man
So I haven't updated this blog in 5 months, and I'm sure that anyone who may have stumbled across it lately thinks it's a dead blog. NO - I just haven't had time. As you can see from my last post, I changed jobs and things got hectic...but now they're back to normal, and I have time to use the computer daily again.
Today is not a good day. I am allergic (I think) to beer, and I somehow keep thinking that I'm not really, and just drinking a couple of them won't hurt. And then I wake up and find out that I was wrong,
again.
Last night I couldn't help it. When I was living in England, I fell in love with a wonderful beer called Stella Artois. It's all I drank. I bought a litre of it and carried it home with me. I put it in the refrigerator at my mom's house (where I was living while I got back on my feet in the U.S.) to save for a special occasion, since it wasn't sold in the U.S.. When I moved out, I went looking for it and discovered that my brother had gotten drunk and drank it one night. DAMMIT.
So I went out to dinner at Governor Stumpy's (cool place) at Gregory and Oak with Mom last night, and as we walked in I noticed a man at the bar drinking a Stella. I
freaked out with excitement and of course ordered one. Then another. Then a third. (By the way, I spoke to the owner, a very nice man, who told me that Stella was just allowed to be sold in Missouri a couple of weeks ago. He said it's been in New York for a while, and is the trendy beer to drink there. No luck in Kansas yet, although one of the guys at my Kansas side Gomer's said that they're trying to get it in, as loads of people have asked for it.)
After dinner we went to Starlight to see Celtic Woman, a five-girl singing/fiddling group from Ireland who were really good...although kind of cheesy in a Riverdance way. Since I was already buzzed off of the my three 7% Stellas, I drank two beers at Starlight.
I wasn't drunk, but I was definitely intoxicated (any former college student can tell you the difference). This morning I woke up and thought I would die. I will spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I am the dumbest girl in the world. Who knows that they are allergic to something and continuously ingests it? At least two or three times a year I drink beer. Each time I think I'll get away with it, and each time I die the next day. Is there a Stupid Girl Anonymous meeting I can go to?
Sigh.
