I'll Start With a Little Rambling, End With a Not x365

Hi folks,

After last week's festivities, (the election, the situation with my hockey league, Boy having Irish friends in town, the election, and drinking every night in celebration of all of these things, like the election), I haven't felt much like blogging. I already fucked up on NaBloPoMo, and though I can do it again next month, I can't win the fancy prizes donated by friends of mine like Uncouth Heathen. But it was more about the discipline than the prizes. I mean Uncouth Heathen had some sort of surgery, and she was still able to do it.

BUT. Next month. I have faith.

Also: I don't know what this means in my life, but I've been having gross dreams about brain damaged test monkeys and dead pigeons.

I went to hot yoga this morning, which felt great, but after a few too many days of not doing it...that shit is hard.

Anyway, here's another one.

#8: I drove to Ozzfest with you, in a car with you and #4, and one other girl. At one point of the long long car trip, a bug fell out of your dreads. I always thought you were cute, but my friend thought you were a stupid little boy (you're only five years younger than me). You were also a little dirty, hence the bug. We drank a lot of red bulls in that car, and the concert itself was the drunkest I've ever been in my entire life. Did I want to go to Ozzfest? Probably. Tommy Lee was probably there. But I couldn't tell you one thing that happened that day, except for this: there was a guy there who would pay people to kick a soccer ball at his head really hard. You kicked that ball. You missed his head by a long shot.