I have never been disappointed in a beer like I was disappointed in Dad’s Little Helper by Rogue Brewery. The Beer Advocate, which I finally broke down and joined, gave the only slightly flavorful piss-water a B-. Actually, I should say the readers and reviewers of Beer Advocate gave it a B-, because the grade the beer receives is the average of all the reviews. I would probably give it a D, but then I should probably stick to rating Porters and IPAs since they are really the only beers I love. Those and good, cold, thick-headed Guinnesses.
Part of my disappointment in Dad’s Little Helper came because my first beer was also lousy, so bad it’s name escapes me. What do I expect for two beers and a twelve inch banana pepper pizza that still cost less than $10? I just wish the Heorot would bring back those $1.50 Avery Porters. I could have had four of them and a pizza for under $10 with money left for a tip!
Yesterday, while tripped up on cold medicine, I got lost at the Muncie Mall. Sounds funny, huh? I would normally laugh. However, I felt like I was in one of those fun-houses they use in B-grade horror films, all mirrors and clowns and shit. Not fun. In fact, quite scary. Abbie said, “It’s one hallway, you just keep walking around until you get back where you started.” And, she is right.
I have never been able to keep track of my car at shopping malls. I don’t know why with three weeks of poor sleep, being sick, and taking cold medicine I thought I would be okay to go shopping by myself. All of that combined with the fact that the last time I went to the mall was with Abbie and Ed before Christmas, not counting the time Jacob and I walked straight through to go to BWs to get some spicy chicken arms, should have made me feel less insane. I left the mall feeling slightly dodgy, overly sensitive, and oddly disoriented. I might still be standing in Books-a-million looking at books I would never buy had Shannon not come over and said, “Hey, Lady, can I help you find a book?”
I came home and wrote about what it feels like to be inside my head sometimes. I am afraid to read it today. I don’t want to know what I wrote.
Last night we went to Welliver’s for Abs’ birthday dinner.
I ate too much. I couldn’t stop myself.
I felt gluttonous. I smiled the whole way through.
I don’t think I need to eat again for days.