Wish I could think of something more eloquent to name this post, but alas, it sums up my feelings.
So this weekend I've been working and dog-sitting for some people; this experience has done nothing but reinforce my dislike of small dogs. Ick. Yappy little things. My plan is to get some studying done today as I fight off the urge to make cinnamon buns.
This weekend there was a festival going on in town on Main Street complete with a Mid-Way and all that jazz. I steered relatively clear, but my daddy and I did peruse down the street once. Later he surprised me with a sterling silver claddagh ring (symbol of our irish heritage: love, friendship, and loyalty, and a locket with a white cameo. He is the best father ever! Knows me so well. He's off to pick up my little brother this weekend; I miss them already!
So, I desperately try and stay away from alcohol, because it has the worst effects on me. My friends convinced me to go out on thursday night. This is the aftermath, and this is why, with the exception of a casual glass of wine, I will not be drinking again.
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