I should have watched the Olympics.

My weekend didn't start especially well. I was horribly distraught about the fact that I had to wake up at 6 o'clock on a Saturday morning. I mean, that's earlier that I have to wake up for work. What good are weekends, if not for sleeping in?!

Unfortunately, I had agreed to be on my brother's team for the county employees' bonspiel and they start that bitch early. Maybe some of you are wondering what a bonspiel is. If you're not...I must be one big dummy, because I had to look it up. It's a curling competition. Being a native of northern Minnesota, of course I'd heard of curling and had a vague idea of what it involved. However, I'd never done it before, nor had I taken the opportunity to watch it or learn any of the rules.

I'm one of those people who is easily embarrassed. I hate that about me, but I've learned to cope. Can you guess what I've found to be the most effective coping mechanism? Mmm hmm. Alcohol. So, the first thing I did upon arriving at my brother Mike's house shortly after 8am was slam a beer. Never have I started drinking so early in the day before. It felt dirty and wrong, but simultaneously, so necessary. Falling and cracking my melon open on the fast ice? That's a potentially embarrassing situation for a sober girl.

First drinks down, Mike and I froze our asses off trudging through the fresh snow to the curling club, conveniently located close enough to his house that it can be seen from his kitchen window. When we arrived, I was quickly introduced to several of his coworkers, whose names I had forgotten five minutes later. Finance was poorly represented at the bonspiel--I had only two coworkers there--but Mike recognized everybody and their brothers (literally). By 9:45am, every county employee as far as the eye could see had an alcholic beverage in his or her hand. Free screwdrivers flowed like water from the shower in my apartment...fast and hard. By the time we took to the ice, I was feeling pretty flipping invincible.

Let me tell you, CURLING IS FUN! Maybe I didn't take advantage of all the sport has to offer (I held a broom but never used it...instead, I became the beer bitch), but man oh man, I believe I would even enjoy this game sober. Of course, that didn't stop me from downing the screwdrivers and beer.

Our team sucked donkey dick and we lost each of the three games we played, but it's cool. We're all beginners, we all learned a thing or two about the game, and I think we all had fun. Even our skip, who was taunted incessantly by Mike. There were more than a few dirty looks shot our way as "You SUCK, Skip!" resounded through the arena. Mike could have been so much worse though. I'm just grateful that he didn't wear his old hockey helmet.

Though we never made it past the third round of play, it was definitely worth my time and twenty-five dollars. We were well fed, had access to more free booze than we knew what to do with, and I won a sweet pair of Jim Beam gloves that came nowhere close to fitting my petite, girly hands (ha!).

By late evening, when we walked back to Mike's house, we were already experiencing the unmistakable symptoms of a hangover. This was so hard for me to grasp. A hangover at 7pm on a Saturday night? I'm usually just working on an early buzz at that point. You know? It's so much better this way! My sister-in-law (who has the prettiest hair I've ever seen, and is way too nice for my brother) encouraged me to take some ibuprofen before bed and I woke up feeling great this morning. I slept right through the bad part! Is this how alcoholics do it?

After eating the delicious breakfast that Amanda prepared this morning, I drove up to Tower for the better part of the day to spend some time with my parents. They're always delighted to have their kids home, for any length of time. They're less likely to have to talk to each other that way.

Just over twelve hours from now, I'll be back at work. Depressing...