St. Paddy's Day

I just so happened to decide to go visit Paul over St. Patrick’s Day. Perhaps I wasn’t thinking, but I had a free weekend and at the time was scheduled to work Saturdays in April, which meant there was a pretty solid chance of a month of no Paul. I wasn’t counting on Easter, and really didn’t until he was home. I’ve learned that plans can change in an instant, and not even the best reasons in the world make it better.

Basically, if I have a free weekend, there’s a pretty good chance I’m spending it at Paul’s.

Brandon and his girlfriend, Kelly, joined.

Some friends of Jacob’s were having a cookout, so we all went. Would you believe I’ve never had a real veggie burger? They were quite good, and someone else provided them. I was willing to, but it was nice to be in fellow vegetarian company. People’s dietary choices don’t bother me and I don’y feel like the odd one out when we eat, but lately I’ve been getting made fun of for it again. This comes and goes in waves, it seems. I realize my vegetarianism makes me an easy target and I can take the occasional joke, but I don’t need to hear about how it’s stupid or I’m weird every time I eat.

It was a fun day. Some of Paul’s friends came, who I generally like. One told him I’m a keeper when they were admiring a waitress’ ass later in the evening and apologized for leading him astray when I said, “Hey, who am I to say he can’t look at a good ass? There are other asses in the world.”

We all also went for a nice walk and climb up some rocks, which is always fun but nerve-wracking. Paul is so damn tall he just strides right up them. And then there’s me, with little legs afraid of falling. Fortunately, he’s a gentleman and will hold his hand out for me. Unfortunately, I’m stubborn and independent and insist I can do it myself.

He also got a tick in his back that I noticed the next morning.

I don’t have very many moments of “I know this is love,” but me pulling a tick out of his back has to to be one of them because first of all it was disgusting and second, looked painful. He wisely decided to check me. I was clean, but I did tell him if I had one that he shouldn’t tell me and should just wait until I wasn’t paying attention to accost me and yank it out. I throw fits when there are bugs on me.

After that, we went out with aforementioned friends. We figured the State College bars would all be packed, plus I don’t like the average State College student, so we were a bit out of town at this nice, big place called I believe the American Ale House, where I had a great portebello mushroom sandwich. Who said vegetarian food couldn’t be amazing? I had no idea mushrooms could be so filling.

You have a tray full of Guiness and one mojito. Which drink belongs to the girl? On that note, I owe Erio some sort of life debt for introducing me to mojitos, even though the ones in Mexican were better than the ones in America. That said, I think I’ve only had one American mojito and everything was better in Mexico anyway.

Sunday brought a Green Bowl breakfast. I made a pancake with chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, Andes, and Kit Kats. Pure glory. Then Paul took us on a campus tour that lasted longer than I would’ve liked but did end the creamery, so I can’t be too bummed.

Saturday night brought something interesting, but it needs its own post. I may launch into full-on ramble mode.


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