This morning I was in Duluth. This morning feels like a week ago. My weekend is a blur. Why do I do this to myself?

Oh yeah! So I can wake up and wonder where all the blood came from. Now I remember!

I spent the weekend in Duluth, taking advantage of a cheap room at the Holiday Inn. Of course, this was infinitely stupid considering my sister lives in Duluth and I ended up sleeping not at the hotel on Saturday.

My thoughts are a little disjointed, so allow me to apologize now for this scattered post.

I went out with people from Tower on Saturday night. I drank ten beers before Ang and I even made it to the bars, which is juuuust about twice as many as I usually enjoy during the “pre-party” portion of evenings with Angie. That was my first mistake. My second mistake was putting cans of beer in my purse before walking to the bar. My third mistake was whipping out one of those cans of beer at RT’s. My fourth mistake? Trying to show off by slamming beers. Fifth mistake: vodka Red Bull. After that, all the mistakes were forgotten.

That extra can of beer did come in handy for the walk from the Pioneer that isn’t the Pioneer anymore to RT’s…until I dropped it, at which point we had to move on.

But you would think getting drunk at RT’s would be perfect since I was staying at the Holiday Inn, which is just across the street, right? Yes, it would have been perfect, BUT I decided to go to Tim’s place. Why? Why did I walk to Tim’s place and Mayo walk to my sister’s? We switched teams. Why do walks seem like the world’s greatest idea when I’m drunk?

That boy’s cat is satan and ripped me up badly and I woke up at 8:30 Sunday morning to the cat crouching under the coffee table hissing at me. I recalled Tim mentioning that it was very, very bad when the cat crouched under the table and hissed, and I couldn’t find both of my socks, but I decided I valued my eyeballs more than my cute pair of camouflage socks. Walking out of someone’s home and having absolutely no idea where you are is one of the better feelings in the world, let me tell you, and I was glad that I navigated my way back to the hotel without incident despite the fact that I was apparently in the ghetto. Angie thought I got dead, as she did the day before. Sometimes she just cares too much.

Go look at flickr for some pictures. You’ll like them, I bet.

When I came home after work today, my cat’s voice box was broken. It’s a dream come true. He goes through the motions, but no sound comes out…not that his annoying meows were half as bad as the devil cat's HISSING.

This week I hear back about the job I interviewed for!

And, Gram? I really, REALLY hope you can't see the shit I do.

Finally, I had a hole in the ass of my pants that I stapled shut today. Sadly, this isn't the first time I have stapled shut holes in my clothing.