Monday, February 25, 2013

Anatomy of a Beer Festival

I sat down today to attempt to write a blog entry about the beer festival I went to in St. Louis this weekend, but as with so many times I sit down to write blog entries about things that seem perfect fodder for blog entries, I drew a blank.

Once upon a time (this weekend), I visited a friend from high school, her husband, and their baby.  I drove up Saturday morning.  We drank a lot of beer (well, the baby didn’t).  I drove home the next day. The end.

That is not a great story.

Here is something slightly more interesting:

Once upon a time (this weekend), I visited a friend whom I always refer to as “a friend from high school,” though I don’t know why because we’ve known each other since elementary school.

She has a lot of legitimately shitty things to complain about, but she manages to truthfully and straightforwardly discuss her life without ever seeming to feel sorry for herself.  This is a quality I admire immensely and would like to emulate.

When I first got there, the baby took one look at me walking in the door and started to cry, and then continued to stare suspiciously at me the rest of the trip any time I was within eyesight.

Saturday night, when a whole group of us had reconvened at the house after the beer drinking, one woman got a migraine and got sick, but her husband shrugged it off and refused to go help her (Husband:  “She’ll be fine”  My friend [horrified]:  “Shouldn’t you go hold her hair?”  Husband:  “You go hold her hair.  I’ll hold her boobs.”).  This was accepted as reasonable behavior by most of the people (male) there to witness it.  Because people are awful to each other.

I didn’t want to get drunk so I didn’t get drunk.  That, in and of itself, is newsworthy:  I went a beer festival and did not overindulge.

When I got back to my apartment yesterday evening, it was devastatingly and beautifully quiet.

(The end.)


  1. I'm drawing a blank about what to say. Wait, I know. Good for you for not overindulging when you did not want to overindulge. That, my dear, is wisdom.

    1. Thank you. :) It seems like such a small thing, but I couldn't have done it a year ago! (Not because I'm an alcoholic, mind you, but because I have a tendency to be stupid around peer pressure. But you may have already known that about me. ;))

  2. What a fucking idiot! The husband, that is. Not you. Obviously!
    And that's not even uncommon behaviour. Why do people keep insisting on getting married?! Especially to idiots?! (I guess I could ask myself that question, which I have - plenty of times. I just haven't found an answer yet) (also, count on me to react when a blog post holds information about a (/several) stupid male person ;-) )

    And as for you, well done! Shall we take this as a sign that you are in the process of becoming an actual adult?! Or maybe just very wise for a youth? ;-) Either way, good for you!

    1. I KNOW!! I don't even know these people and this many days later, it's STILL bothering me that that poor woman was treated that way! I don't know what's wrong with people (not you! You wound up in an unfortunate situation...and then you had the courage to rebuild your life after removing the negative influence, which is amazing and most admirable).

      On the second point, haha, thank you! I'm probably just a wise ("wise") youth (because god forbid I ever actually turn into an adult!). And referring to what I wrote in the above paragraph, I'm pretty sure that however I classify myself, you're right there with me! :D

  3. Aw, you're sweet. Thank you <3

    Most days I feel like I'm alternating between being 14 and 75 years old, and both has me a bit frustrated. But let's just go with "wise for our age" and simply not discuss that age, but instead be judged by our youthful appearence, or something ;-)

    1. Hahaha, I love it! Sounds like a plan. :)