I just returned from hanging out with a few friends from high school. Candice, Kim and Zack came by last night and we ended up going back to Kim’s house. While Zack left at about 1:30, the rest of us stayed up until about 4 a.m. and then talked a couple hours longer before falling asleep. Surprisingly, I was up at about 10 this morning. I must’ve seen about twelve episodes of season one of The Newlyweds as Candice brought it along.

In the car ride back, I said “gesundheit” when Zack sneezed. Apparently, my German accent is so bad (thickly interlaced with my southern accent I guess) that Candice misheard me and thought I asked, “Is that diet?” She looked at me kind of funny and said, “Is what diet?” Sigh.

My dad mentioned when I got home that I had missed our traditional toast for the new year. (Happy new year’s, y’all, by the way.) This made me realize I wanted some wine so Dad let me. The first kind I tried was remarkably dry, although not in a bad way. I don’t know if it was some Dad had made or if it was bought. Anyway, the second kind (I had about two tablespoons of each; don’t think I was having a full glass each time!) was like a very thin syrup. Both of my parents hated it but I rather liked it. My large sweet tooth, I suppose. I then mentioned that I’d never tried vodka so my dad poured me some regular Smirnoff. With my parents watching me expectantly, I smelled and took a sip. Oh my god, that shit is nasty. I immediately made a noise and clapped a hand over my mouth, pained. Dad promptly cracked up; hmph. The closest taste that comes to mind to match is that of the smell of gasoline. Blech.

I’m now enjoying a Pepsi (caffeine puts the smack-down on alcohol any day, buddy) while talking to Trin and Steve.