Beer... I drink it to much. I think. This weekend I had WAY to much. Now I sit here having that day after a binge feeling... It's a hobby. It's my religion. Not the feeling, but beer itself. Let me set the record straight. I treat beer with the up most respect, and make sure I have all my bases covered before I partake. Anyway, I started exploring craft brewing several years ago. I have made many stops within the mid-west to not only quench my thirst, but to explore different styles from different breweries. This summer I visited several beer fests, several breweries, and don't plan on stopping. Over Christmas I have several places on the radar... The Roundhouse in Aurora, Illinois, Gordan Birsch in Bolingbrook, IL, PIE (Pi?) in Chicago, IL., Flatlanders in Lincolnshire, IL., and maybe revisit a couple. I don't know why I go through all the trouble. I don't know how my liver is reacting. But, fuck it. It's my thing. Everybody has to have a thing (at the moment I am enjoying a Staghorn (Octoberfest) from New Glarus Brewing Company in beautiful Wisconsin. I love Wisconsin... Beer... Cheese... damn fine state. I think I've pretty much have had a few samplings from every brewery in that state. Currently, I am working on Indiana. Last night I had some amber called Dirty Helen from a brewery in a part of Indiana I didn't know even had people or existed. And, why people still choose to live in Indiana is beyond me. Face it Hoosiers, there is nothing in Indiana... And Notre Dame sucks. Anyway, Indiana is my next challenge. Also, I am not all that far from St. Louis. There is a brewery there called Schfely's...(Sp?) that I think I shall visit before I leave this part of the country for good. At this one brewfest I visit every year, Schefly's brings their entire offering. Last year was no different and they impressed the shit out of me. They had something called AGENT 99 (Get Smart... great show) that really, really was good. At least I remember it being good. I sorta..well... I got really hammered at that event. I regressed to my eighteen year-old self where I started finding ways to annoy people with stupid things (such as setting the hotel room thermostat to 60) and jumping clothed into the hotel pool. That was dumb. I can't believe I did that. Normally, I am quite under control while drinking. Jumping in pools with all my clothes on is not something I do normally. I usually don't go into pools. I've mentioned this before in past blogs, I think, but I am cursed with remembering everything I do while intoxicated. I remember every stupid thing I do, say, and act. It's my gift... my curse. There hasn't been a time where I've ever blacked out. At the beer fest from last summer I bought a big, cool, ass beer boot on the grounds. There I was, drunk and surrounded by thousands carrying this thing around. I managed to get it all the way home safe and sound. Now, that is a miracle. In fact, it's right over there on the shelf. Hi BEER BOOT!
Enough about my sad drinking habits. I just decided to pop in because I've spent the day alone with my thoughts. After a night's drinking, I sometimes spend the next day with my thoughts. I think, while drinking, the feelings, emotions, ideas, etc., I usually try to bury under my wall, surface with me having to confront them before burying them again. While drunk, these things don't bother me. But, as normal Joe they bother me and then I start feeling rather lonely and then I sit on the couch and then I think, "Man! Get a grip, Joe!" Today's big thought was, "Joe, you're 33 years-old and have nothing to show for it, other then wayyyyyy to much Illinois shit. Joe, orange is really a god awful color....Seriously, Orange is really ugly!" Then I say to that voice, "If walking in the woods during hunting season, I won't get shot!" The voice says, "How often are you in the woods?" I respond, "Ummmmmm...... Okay, walking down the street? I won't get hit by a car because they'll see me!" The voice responds, "Uh huh... sure... yeah... More then likely the color will tell a motorist, 'Look at the orange! Hit it!'" "Fuck you, voice in my head." The voice just prattles on about other things to make me feel miserable. "Hey dude, you're alone! You just have a fish." "I like that fish, Mr. Voice." "Yeah, but the water is dirty." "Yeah, I better change him..." ... .Shit, be right back. OMIGOD!!! I ALMOST KILLED MY FISH!!! I went to do my monthly bowl transfer (you'd be surprised at the amount of filth a little fish could manufacture), and he almost fell into the drain of the sink! GADS!!! I .. my friend.. almost... piped... and ... gone... and ... *sniff* fish!!! IKE!!! He's now in the bowl really angry at me, I bet. Ike isn't my only resident. I share my balcony with a mess of spiders I call the "Reggies" Reggie I met last year and he went ... she went and multiplied. I have a deal with them. I have one half of the deck and they stay on the other.
I hate this season. I really do. I feel like shit pretty much through January (probably why I don't enjoy the holidays or my birthday to boot... I get older soon. Shit). I'm depressed, sad, feel shitty, sad... It's more then likely SAD. So, for the next few months I will beat myself up. I can be my worst enemy. I tend to focus on all the things I don't have and neglect the things I do have... a nice family up North, good friends all around me, and some cool ass orange shit that says one word - "Illinois." Still, I have been think about what to do with the rest of my life. Do I go on a journey and leave Mid-Illinois come summer? Do I stay? Is what I want really here? Is what I want somewhere else? What path do I choose as the paths diverge in a yellow wood? That isn't going to be solved this evening. Catch you later.
