- or "How To Have a Really Shitty Time Without Even Trying".

Yeah, so Friday morning Matt, Heap and I piled into the car and headed to Annapolis. We were staying with C and K, the couple we usually go to all the Ravens games with.

Just as we were pulling onto their street, we heard an awful grinding noise.

"That wasn't our car?" I asked as we rolled down all the windows. "Yeah, it is," Matt told me.

This, as were turning onto C and K's street, right before we turned onto their semi-long driveway.

My stomach dropped. We were 2 1/2 hours from home and in possible dire need of a mechanical miracle.

C came home and he and Matt pulled one of the tires off, took a look at the brakes, and didn't seem to find anything amiss.

We decided to call the shop down the street, that Matt's parents used to take their cars to (before moving to Florida), to find out if they could squeeze us in (we explained we were only here for the weekend and needed to leave on Sunday).

The guy was very nice, told us to bring it in and if he couldn't get to it by Friday, he'd get to it on Saturday.

So, we did, and he did, and $220, that we really couldn't spare, later I had my car back with brand new brake pads.

Saturday afternoon K had a birthday / draft day party planned for C. The group of people that Matt, C and K grew up with is still very close (which amazes me still, to this day) and so the usual crowd was invited.

Everyone proceeded to eat and drink all day long, bicker about who was drafting the better players and what those teams were going to do with said players, and bitch and moan about the dumbest shit in the world.

By 4 pm (the party started around 12:30, 1:00), I was thoroughly bored. I managed to find one of the guy's girlfriends, who was still semi-new to the group and whom I had not previously hung out with before, and she and I stuck together the rest of the day.

By 9 pm only a small group of the guys were still there, leaving K, B and I as the only girls (which was fine by me).

K and I had made cupcakes (boxed cake mix, pre-made icing) earlier that day, so the girls and I decided to indulge.

No more than 5 minutes later I could feel my air ways beginning to constrict and my face begin to heat up.

*As a side note: back in October, I had a pretty bad reaction to something I ate, after having had a few beers (we ate spaghetti) and ended up in the emergency room. My heart was pounding out of my chest, I was short of breath, my face was bright red and felt like I was running a fever, and I had white and red blotches all over my shoulders, chest and back. They gave me an IV with Benadryl and something else in it and gave me an Epi-pen to carry with me. They couldn't figure out what had caused the reaction, but said the next time it happens it might be worse. I had never had any type of food allergy in my life, other than being lactose intolerant.

Sitting in a darkened kitchen, I asked the girls if it looked like my face was turning red and they both freaked out. Obviously they could see it.

I drank some milk and water (sometimes when I have alcohol in my system and I drink soda, what I can only figure as the citric acid in it, burns my stomach and gives me similar symptoms, hence the milk as a neutralizer).

Of course, the Epi-pen was sitting in my utensil drawer at home.

Within a few minutes, my breathing became slightly easier and K informed me she had some Benadryl, which I took right away.

I called Matt in to tell him what was happening, just in case, and that's when I saw the red blotches on my shoulders, chest and back.

I stayed calm, drank more water, and passed out in bed, just as the chills were setting in.

The next morning I woke up groggy as hell and feeling kinda rough. Thank god I wasn't hung over. I don't think I would have been able to handle that on top of everything else.

So, we made it home on a rainy Sunday, which turned into a rainy Monday.

As if the weekend didn't get me down enough as it was (being $220 poorer when we couldn't really afford to be left me in a bitter mood), and the rain didn't fill my heart with laughter, I found out my poor brother (who is 26) has to have surgery on Thursday for what they believe is a hernia.

Just the icing on the poop-flavored cake, I tell ya.

I told him I'll take him to the hospital for the outpatient "procedure" - they're doing it laproscopically (sp?) and said he'll only be there for a few hours. Then I'm going to bring him back to my house so he doesn't have to be alone for a few days. None of us know what kind of shape he's going to be in, so I said I'd take care of him.

Yep, it's been a fan-fucking-tastic couple of days for me and mine. I can't wait to find out what the future holds!