Carrie + Beer + Tequila = Hot Mess

I don't know that I need to add much to that title. Thank heavens for good friends and a day to recuperate.

It just happened so fast. The shots went down smoothly. The beer tasted great. Then I stood up. Ooops.

B drove me home. I'm glad it was a nice day for a walk to Frank's today.

D called me this morning that she was in much the same shape, as she went on a pub crawl in Detroit last night. Funny to be an hour and a half away from each other, yet experience much the same thing. Beautiful.

I actually feel quite well now...no headache (thanks, Aleve!), my stomach is a little upset, but not too bad...I'm sure the sleep helped.

Note to self: just because it tastes good doesn't mean I should drink it...repeatedly.

Blogging From Work...Never Good

I've been trying to avoid political discussions at work...and haven't been too successful. The issue of Palin's wardrobe just came up. I commented that she stated she was frugal, and was met with a retort that Alaska cuts $2,000 checks to residents when they have a budget surplus. I told the person that perhaps he should move to Alaska. I'd say "oops" if I were actually sorry.

Holy Mole-y: Part D

I had a delightful trip back to the dermatologist's office this morning. I sat gleefully as she pulled out my three little stitches. We talked about the pathology results. The moles (yep - plural) were benign - yeay! But wait - moleS? Who knew? I just thought I was having one removed, but in my freak-of-nature way, I had two removed. A mole on a mole. Weird. It certainly didn't appear to be more than one, but thanks to the marvels of science and medicine, the dermatopathologist was able to diagnose two. One was congenital (from birth / shortly thereafter) and one from some point well after that.

So, after they pulled the stitches, they went on to glue a makeshift steri-strip to the "wound." It should wear off in 5 - 7 days, give or take a few, which would make it roughly 3 - 10 days. Hmm...sounds conspicuously like the margin of error for political polling. I was also given clearance to soak my hand (meaning I can get it wet and not worry). I didn't bother to tell them that my version of soaking involves an hour in chlorinated water twice per week. I think that might get me to the lower end of the steri-strip range. One can hope. I'll surprise myself if I don't rip it off at some point.

Holy Mole-y: Installment 3

I just want the flippin' stitches out already. It's getting old. I'll be very happy to see the doctor at 8:45 Monday morning. Yeesh.

My New Toy

I stayed at Chateau May (mom & dad's house) last Saturday night. Sunday morning, I made myself cinnamon toast with applesauce - a childhood favorite. It was inspiring. So much so that I bought my very own toaster. I know - strange to live without a toaster for over 7 years. But such is life - I never really wanted one before. If I wanted toast, I either heated up a frying pan or turned on the oven. But I finally decided to give in to the convenience.

I also decided to try my hand at homemade applesauce. Yes, I know buying it in the jar is easier. But I grew up on homemade applesauce, and it's so much better. I found a great recipe:
Ingredients:
3 - 4 lbs. apples, peeled, cored and cut into quarters
juice from one lemon
four strips of lemon peel
3" cinnamon stick
dash of salt
1 cup of water
1/4 cup dark brown sugar (my new favorite baking ingredient!)
Directions: Throw everything in a large pot. Bring it to a boil, then simmer for 20 - 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. The recipe also called for 1/2 cup of granulated sugar, but I thought that would make it entirely too sweet. So far, it's the best applesauce I've ever had.

Texting With D

Friday, October 17:

D: Did you know October is National Domestic Abuse month?
C: To commit it? You have two more weeks to smack Foofie around.
D: Thanks. He just punched me in the face because you wrote that.
C: You deserved it and he only did it because he loves you.

I think D and I should form the anti-Lifetime channel.

Hey, guess what? I'm pretty.

I must be glowing this week or something. Maybe the stars are aligned in a way they never have been before. But I had declarations from two men this week, both at gas stations, that I'm pretty. Actually, both were along the lines of, "Damn, you sure are pretty. Oh shit, I hope that's not your husband over there!" It's kind of funny, really. I never have the urge to walk up to some guy and say, "Damn, you sure are handsome!" Although, maybe I should do that anyway!