I am finally getting off the continent of North America. I am not just going to Mexico or Canada. I am going to Italy! In February. I am so excited. And I’ve got no one to share in my excitement. I have the pain of telling my boss that I am going away for 9 days. I am not looking forward to that either.

Of course, I also have a lot of domestic travel going on too. I am going home to PA for Christmas and about two weeks before that, I think I am going to have to fly to Chicago for work. I was hoping that this was all behind me, but I guess not. I HATE going to Chicago for work. And that is the weekend of Winemonkey’s birthday. I was going to try and get us tickets to see the Nutcracker in SF, but now I don’t know that I can make that happen. Which means, of the two of his birthdays, BOTH of them have been screwed up because I had to go to Chicago to do research. Bummer. Big Fat Bummer.

All I have to say is I hope we survive the next 4 years. And that I wish NPR did a better job telling me the weather in the morning. Instead of doing it once an hour, perhaps they should do it after every break. And I don’t care what they say, it is MORE important for me to know the weather than to cover the President’s press conference. Trust me. I know what is going to make my day better. I would rather know if it is going to rain than listen to a pompous man say he will fight for people who have the same views and values as him. What about the rest of us buddy??!? Do I not pay taxes too?!?

The best part, is that deep down inside, I don’t even follow politics, but his relection has shaken me THAT much. I promise that I won’t write about politics again.

I will not be able to track the election on TV unless I go down to the local bar. I was planning on following it on NPR, but there is something to be said about the graphics on the TV. I am tempted to go to Radio Shack to get a pair of rabbit ears, just to see if I can get reception. Who would have ever thought I would care so much about what happens.

But on a different note, I got these in the mail yesterday:

I ordered these bracelets from Target. Apparently 100% of the cost of the bracelets goes towards breast cancer research. I have nine of these bracelets to give away, because I really only wanted one, but they came in a bulk of 10. My bracelets are way more HOT PINK and less the girly pink shown in the picture.

Hope you all have a beautiful Election Day!

Here is just a taste of the crawl. I went as a two person toga party with Porter. It was TONS of fun. There were boy scouts and nurses and my sister went as an identity crisis. We lasted through seven or eight bars… maybe more… I don’t remember… before we caught a taxi home. All of our favorite “met them on the pub crawl” people were there…. Beaver Boy, the soccer players… We made new friends with the guy who went as Sexy and another guy who went as one of the Crazy 88 from Kill Bill. It was just too awesome to even continue going on about.

Things I didn’t remember until someone told me or I it discovered in the shower:

1. The random black and blue mark on my tricep. It is in such a place that I have to contort my body to see it in the mirror.

2. The scratch that was on my upper arm. The scratch ran from my shoulder to my tricep. Don’t know where that came from.

3. Kissing Porter’s roommate on the cheek. He was a kissing booth for goodness sake’s, but I only vaguely remember what happened.

4. Porter biting someone’s ear. Not hard. Or at least I don’t think so, but she only vaguely remembers and I don’t remember at all.

5. How many phone calls I made to the big A, who ended up working and not being able to come with us. To be honest, I still don’t know how many phone calls, but maybe someday he will tell me. I just hope the messages were decent and I mean decent in the no mention of anything remotely sexual or perverse.

6. How many shots of Goldschalger were consumed. But I think we have a count of three each. Plus a shot of tequila.

My new favorite saying: “Gin. It is so good. And yet so bad.” or “Gin. It is like a thousand flowers in your mouth fighting over which one gets to make you puke.”