Monday, February 20, 2012

I think the children's book, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" was loosely based on my life.

The last time I wrote a blog I was 16...

Here. We. Go.

This last weekend was the "Cross My Heart" charity pub crawl. That's right, pub crawl. First blog, straight out the gate, I went there. So, pub crawl, to save the hearts. Drown the liver in alcohol, but save the hearts. It's legit, I promise. We donated money to The American Heart Association and in return 5 different bars along McKinney Avenue in Uptown Dallas get you completely snockered starting at 12 in the afternoon. Beer for breakfast is one of those things that you tell your parents you're going to have when you turn 21 just to see their faces fall in shame. This time it was true and my dad gladly drove us to McKinney Ave. to start the event off. He also sent me this slogan as a t-shirt and then he told me to "make an Irish father proud". Needless to say, our team made him proud.

Last year this event turned out 500 participants. This year? 70.

In their defense, The Color Run was the same day (before you judge me, the run was full weeks before I knew about it) and the Snuggie Pub Crawl was last weekend (HOW DID I MISS THIS?!) Well, the expected amount of alcohol was 2 pitchers at each bar, the actual outcome started to increase in multiples of 3. Bar #2 and we were all well-seasoned. We proceeded to "Simba" the beer to anyone that lost at Quarters.

You're lost. I'll explain. You know the scene in The Lion King where Rafiki holds Simba up to the pridelands over the cliff and they all sing "The Circle of Life"? Well imagine that except it's me with a glass of beer in my hands towards the heavens and our table singing the "ah sibenya" song and the other half is yelling "chug! chug! chug!".

Pan over to Will with his head in his hands because he's lost at Quarters for the 3rd time in a row. He sits up, exhales, stares me down and reaches up for the cup, yells "Halle Berry!" and chugs the beer. He finishes, slams the plastic cup on the table and Danny wipes beer foam across his forehead. Oh! The best part! It was POURING outside! We had planned to stick around Uptown for karaoke (we were the perfect victims for the sport, I know) but I've decided that nothing is lamer than when everybody at the bar goes "buh, buh" during Tainted Love, except for maybe Tainted Love.

Reasons why I rarely go out and about bar hopping are very evident:

  • We were back at bar #4 watching the Stars game with some firemen
  • Will had a permanent marker tattoo of a ferris wheel on his bicep
  • Danny and I had talked enough Red Wings/Stars hockey trash to put us on opposite ends of the table and not on good speaking terms
  • Lauren claimed she was only staying alive to finish her sweet potato fries

The night ended around 9pm when we took a cab ride home and the driver had to move his 6 pack of Coors from the passenger seat.

I really should stop this post and start writing about something more wholesome that doesn't paint me out to be a raging alcoholic... which I'm not. My dad knows that I'm out day-drinking (for a good cause) but that doesn't stop him from messing with me. Cue the text messages:

Dad: Hi sweetie, let me know when you are home and rested.
Me: dad i m dru nnnk
Dad: Don't drink anything you can't keep
Dad: Don't sit in swivel chairs
Dad: Love you


Spent all day yesterday with the mini me, Delaney, and she has a way of bringing the nostalgia out of me. And the rage. She eats an entire bag of chocolate chips and then proceeds to sing a mash-up of Backstreet Boys songs at the top of her lungs at 10pm when most of my apartment building is asleep. I want to thank the person that invented the cardboard tube at the end of a paper towel roll. BOP!

Delaney stayed the night even though I had work at 8am this morning. We were overdue for a sleepover. That also meant that she would be in my apartment alone all morning until I could check on her at lunch. Now, she's 13 so I don't really have to check on her, but every now and then I worry. I came home and my dad had already picked her up, but she left me a note:

"Thanks for the sleepover!!!! Had so much fun!!! I lit a candle and blew it out! YAY your apartment is not on fire!!!"

For. Real. The monkey is going to give me a heart attack.

Somebody That I Used to Know by Gotye is stuck in my head. And now yours.

-Hoo, out

1 comment:

  1. hahaha pretty girls aren't supposed to be funny, Donahoo. it's throwing off the cosmic balance.