Work Makes Me Angry. And It Makes Me Drink.

Today is just…you know?  I’m not even.  Won’t help.  Tomorrow will be the same as today, and the next day, and so on and so forth until my 4-day birthday (which I can’t stop saying in my head as “birfday”) weekend starts on Friday.

So today is off the complaining table, but I really wish I were as buzzed as I was yesterday.  Graham took me to Microfest for my birthday.  He’d been talking about his awesome secret plans for months, and by the time yesterday rolled around, he told me how nervous he was because he was afraid it would suck.  I don’t know how this man has dated me for more than 3 years and still thinks I would be capable of rejecting dozens of craft beers, but I suppose the point is that we went and had a really good time.

(Except for this bizarre farmhouse ale from Holland?  Maybe?  It looked thick enough to eat with a spoon and started expanding into foam inside of my mouth.  I felt very Violet Beauregard and briefly wondered if my fear of public vomiting would come to a horrible realization.  I mean, this shit was aggressive.)

After Microfest, we stopped at his house and watched his ridiculous former roommate move herself out.  And by move herself out, I mean walk around in a huff while her dad and now-ex-boyfriend-slash-also-former-roommate did the heavy lifting.  That whole situation is fucking weird, and I hope she crawls back to Granite City where she belongs.  This opinion is the result of several months of rude, obnoxious, drunken, illegal, property destroying behavior that she, for some reason, fully expects other people to take responsibility for.  I’ve said before that I’m a terrible judge of character – if you’re awful, I will initially think you’re awesome – but in this case I was totally right and I ignored myself.

Let me say this – not everyone in Granite City is a birth defective mesomorph.  Okay?  I have a few friends from there and they are genuinely decent human beings whose only geographically-inherited problem is an affinity for Natural Light.

BUT on the whole, the majority of Granite Citians are there for a reason.  They are a people whose reproductive success depends heavily upon a close proximity to trailer homes, meth labs, and steel mill pollutants.  Don’t agree?  Fine.  But my experience with their bad teeth and equally poor manners has led me to this conclusion.  I love being right so I can’t say I regret knowing Tori, but I am certainly glad she’s gone.

Also, this is why I don’t allow myself to have roommates.

I shouldn’t be such a dick, right?  Probably.  Anyway, after we watched Tori move out for awhile, we went to Onesto for dinner.  If you’re like me and haven’t had braunschweiger since your great-grandmother smashed it into a Wonder Bread sandwich with mustard and potato chips, go to Onesto.  Their braunschweiger with whole grain mustard and pickled cabbage is ace.

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About erineph

I'm Erin. I have tattoos and more than one cat. I am an office drone, a music writer, and an erstwhile bartender. I am a cook in the bedroom and a whore in the kitchen. Things I enjoy include but are not limited to zombies, burritos, Cthulhu, Kurt Vonnegut, Keith Richards, accordions, perfumery, and wearing fat pants in the privacy of my own home.
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