Hair of the Dog.
Not the best way to start a post, but I feel like I'm getting out of the habit having been off The Internets for the past couple of days.
So I better write something....
Not feeling so hot today. I'm maxing out my rotting 31 year old body. Sad really. Tuesday I took J to New York to the Belles show. It didn't take much to talk him into coming with me. The chance to ogle cute Scottish boys was just too tempting. J has the most severe case of Anglophilism Ever Documented. Ever. I swear it. Stuff for textbooks. Frightful really. Anyway, we got back to the train precisely one minute before it was headed back to Philly. Got in at midnight, got up to go to work at 6:30 to bake cupcakes.
Turned out J was also going to the Hidden Cameras show at the Unitarian Church last night so we met up again, but this time with three other people and 6 quarts of lager* in paper bags. The lager was probably the big mistake. More likely it was the paper bags. I don't know. All I can tell you is that this morning I wished I didn't have a head because that sucker hurt. Oy.
I went into work late so I could talk to my lawyer and came back to The Canary to find Neil Young standing 30 feet from me schilling for Farm Aid in that ridiculous hat he always wears. I almost blamed my horrible hangover on him, but I think I remember reading somewhere that the guy cleaned himself up since fathering Melissa's baby. So it couldn't have been the vicarious, invisible fumes.
So when I came home from work tonight, I did the appropriate thing and went straight to The Sidecar to chitchat with Sidecar A...
*In Philly, 'lager' refers to Yuengling, a local beer. As if there's only one lager in the world! WTF?! Thinking themselves The Center of the Universe is such a Manhattan trait. For shame, Philadelphia!