Dearly Beloved...

First, in the "Things I Don't Want To Do at 9:00 am After a Bachelor Party" category, let me add "smell items in the company refrigerator to determine what is giving the office the unique aroma of dead rotting animals." Fortunately, I prepared for work today by not reaching the level of debauchery appropriate for the event last night.

Second, the band is playing at the Velvet Lounge on Friday, July 13th with Lights Resolve and Black & White Jacksons. This is a concert that we would really like a good amount of people to come out to, and most of you live withing 5 blocks of the club, so it would be nice to see you all out. Besides, you are not going to let a stupid superstition scare you away, are you? The only thing that I will be able to conclude is that you are a coward if you don't come out next Friday. Or you hate me. Those are your only two options.

So, what else has happened since we last spoke?

It looks like I am lactose intolerant. I haven't had dairy in a month and I have felt a lot better. As much as I want to believe that I am just very depressed, it looks like milk is the culprit. I have learned is the dairy is in anything worth eating. I am willing to bet that your favorite food contains dairy. I go back to the doctor on Monday, and then we start "re-introducing" dairy. There are degrees of lactose intolerance, and I will have the fun job of figuring out what I can and can not eat. I guess that means drinking milk and waiting around for side effects, which should be a lot of fun.

What has been fun is the amount of foods containing dairy that both Tommy and my mother now like to offer me. I realize that I use to eat a lot of dairy, particularly cheese, and they are not use to these restrictions yet, but it is funny none the less. Typically they offer me something, like ice cream. I respond that I can't eat it, and then they have a brief confused look on their face before they remember my intolerance and then apologize. I seriously think Tommy went from never offering me ice cream, to offering it to me 3 days in a row after my diagnosis. It was pretty great.

Also, I want to strangle people at my restaurant who order American cheese on hamburgers when we have so many other worthy cheeses available.

It appears that I have entered into the "everyone you know is getting married" stage of my life. I went to a wedding party last weekend, and I have a wedding this weekend. Two weddings in September, and others that I can't attend. Given that Hugh Grant's character name in "Four Weddings and a Funeral" was Charles, I have decided to imagine that my life is a British romantic comedy. For the record, it is thoughts like these that give me hope that depression can beat out lactose intolerance as the cause of my stomach ailments.

At the party last weekend I learned that there is a beach less than 30 miles away from D.C. While I wouldn't bring my surfboard, it is a lovely spot. While I was out there I also stopped by Annapolis, which I frequently forget a) is close to D.C., and b) exists. It was nice, kinda like Old Town but slightly younger and more energetic. I say that, but you must realize that I saw about 15-20 guys in seersucker suits in the span of about 45 minutes, so only slightly younger and more energetic.