death’s door’s drinks

I found out that there’s a distillery in Wisconsin named Death’s Door Spirits.  They make gin and vodka… no whiskey yet (Greg’s drink of choice).  Even so, I think I’ll make a road trip when it gets warmer to buy a few bottles…

 *Update — Brian at Death’s Door Spirits say that their whiskey will be available on April 1st.  Now I’m planning a road trip for sure.

we’re allergic to each other


Or at least I figured out that I’m allergic to her.  I’ve been having all these dry eye problems, and that’s been forcing me to pay a lot of drinking money towards prescription eye drops every month.  The other day, my doctor asked me what has changed in the last year that could cause my eyes to get so bad.   

I told him I used to be allergic to dogs when I was younger. Bingo.  I never had a dog until Dangerboy and I got married at the end of 2006, and I thought I had outgrown the dog allergy. Wrong.  My doctor asked how old my dog is, I guess because he was hoping she would die soon.  But Ginger is  going to be around for many more years, so now I’m giving an allergy medicine a try.  At least it’s cheaper than forking over an arm and a leg every month to keep my eyes lubricated. And now I can put that extra money towards alcohol again.

suck it up

So I’m looking at admission requirements for grad school, and eye-rolling at the whole “personal statement” issue.  Schools want to know why they should let you in, and I guess I can’t tell them the truth. You know, that they want money to give me a degree, and I want to give them money to give me said degree.  No, they want to know how my goals align with their goals. 

I wished that they’d ask me about something that interests me. Then I could tell them that if they name any porn star from the last 10 years, I can probably name at least 10 of their movies… in alphabetical order.  Or I could tell them in detail the differences between beer and hard cider. I would even give them my 20-page paper I wrote about the topic for a technical writing class.  (Hey, that instructor said we could write about anything.)  Or I could give them the scientific reasons why no one should ever eat the popcorn at Buzzard Beach.

But no, now I have to suck up to them and say why a grad school should take my money. Meh.  I need a drink… minus the Buzzard Beach popcorn.