Being Irish Has Its Perks

I remember one of the first dates Boyfriend and I went on was to a skeezy bar in Homestead where people who worked in The Waterfront regularly herded to. I also remember drinking about 5 Rolling Rocks and being perfectly fine to drive home. Our conversation went a little like this:

"Holy shit, I can't believe I drank that much and I don't feel a thing! You don't think I'm an alchoolic do you?"

"No, I just think your Irish."

"FINALLY! Someone who understands!"

After hearing Boyfriend's proclamation of his complete and utter understanding of Irish stereotypes, I knew that I could indeed marry this fellow (OK not really, but I at least knew I was going to give him a couple more dates). However, as excited as I was that he could fully embrace my nationality, I cannot embrace his.

Enter his birthday.

For the whole month of March and half the month of April he will constantly tell me how he wants a set of bagpipes for his birthday. Each year he asks multiple, multiple times, and each year I tell him no. What he fails to realize is is that if he in fact GETS the bagpipes from someone (who I will plot to kill later), I am the one who will have to LISTEN to them. I don't know about you, but sitting around and listening to my tone deaf boyfriend playing some sour notes on a bagpipe isn't my idea of fun. I have better things to do like, watch paint dry.

Here's another kicker. He wants them so he can go out on St. Patrick's Day, in public, and play them while wearing a kilt. Because ummm that doesn't sound embarrassing at all, not to mention its NOT A SCOTISH HOLIDAY! He thinks he will get alot of free drinks, I think he will get a lot of free beat downs.

So above anything else, this is a public service message to anyone who may be thinking of buying Boyfriend this gift for his birthday.

I will hunt you down.

However, I will not kill you. I feel that it would be a far worse punishment if you would have to listen to him play the bagpipes for 12 hours straight. If I'm feeling extra specially evil that day, I may even have him sing to you. At this point, I know I would be for death, but death will not be an option for you.

I hope we have come to an understanding.

La-Day-La My Best Friend's Back!

I just wanted to write to let my Bestest (OCR) know how happy I am that she moved back to Pittsburgh. Its amazing how much weight has been lifted off of my shoulders since her return. I finally have someone who truly understands me only a 45 minute drive away.

We kept ourselves wildy entertained for about 5 hours yesterday just making goofy faces and animal noises at each other.

A sure sign of best friendship.......or a sure sign that we're both a little slow.

Eh, no matter. I heart you Bestest!

You Don't Gotta Go Home But Ya Can't Stay Here!

One of the funniest stories I've heard in awhile:

Roommate: When Jess and I were at Matrix I noticed this guy checking me out earlier in the night. He kept staring at me, and at the end of the night while Jess and I were still dancing, he started to approach me. As soon as he came within 3 feet of me he made a disgusted face and turned and walked away. I can't even imagine the drunken mess I must have looked like. I knew it was time to go home.

Sweatin' It Out

Roommate and I have been looking for a hip hop dance class to attend so we can loose some poundage and have fun at the same time. Well, we found one. This particular dance class is held in East Liberty (S'liberty) and instructed by a man named "Big Weave". Which is really coincidental being that I was thinking about getting a weave put in myself. I envision me and Big Weave becoming BFFs. I would then call myself "Medium Weave" because you know, I wouldn't want to steal his thunder or anything.