brownie

I have quit drinking since the first day of 2006. Read my Chinese webpage for my New Year’s embarrassing incident in Bellagio.
However, I am still fond of beer and wine and taste a little, no more than half a glass. To waste my best friends’ gifts in judging beer and wine is the last thing I would do.
Zabeth says that you could always find beer in her fridge. The best beer in any given condition. She started looking for the best beer in Pennsylvania even before recovering from her jet lag. According to her German beer-tasting blood, Pilsner Urquell is the best beer ever. I have to believe her because Pilsner Urquell is Czech beer not German. See how unbiased she is. Her favorite German beer is Dortmunder Union Pils. To date, in her testing phase of Pennsylvanian beer, Hop Devil is the runner-up, while the existence of the winner remains promising. These are easy thing to remember. The difficult thing is when she try to explain me the differences among lager, ale, stout, etc.As to wine, Marc has various favorites, depending on what he’s eating. Chicken, fish, lamb, beef, rabbit, escargots, foie gras, or cheese; what kind of cheese, how the meat is cooked, what the function of the food is – an appetizer, entrée, or dessert. Serving the wine cold or warm sometimes also has to take the weather into account. Anyway, when it comes to wine, he is the boss.
Actually I am happy to be a follower, as long as the leader does not test my limit of patience. When I count on you, please make a decision no more than 3 minutes per possible choice. So far Zabeth and Marc are very good at deciding beer and wine for me. In addition, they are also good at taking over my glass if I cannot finish it.
All and all, the chance of me getting drunk is very low.
I don’t have popular bad habits, such as smoking, drinking, and gambling. I like doing yoga, go hiking, and taking hot bath. Basically I live a relatively healthy life. The last time I got seriously ill was 2 and half years ago.
I was sick at KirkStock last weekend. I hope he could updated the website with some pictures taken during that weekend. www.kirkstock.com
Kirk French is Marc’s friend in Anthropology Dept. He has lived in the middle of woods for 3 years and worked on the house and land for exchange of rent. He is leaving for St. Louis and thought it would be a great fun if people gathered together for a weekend.
It was a great fun. He and his friends invited 11 bands to perform on stage, which Marc helped to build up. His “yard” was so huge that tens of tents were uncrownedly scattered here and there.
The first night (June 2nd) was not very exciting because of rain. The bands didn’t start until 11pm. I played with Uno the cat who was only several months old. I watched Joe making sausages with the recipe from Spats. I sold a few KirkStock T-shirts with a red “staff” T-shirt on. I chatted with people coming in and out of the house. I waited for Marc returning from his shift in the parking lot (a large meadow field). I ate something. I talked to Cameron the 12-yr-old. I wrote something in my notebook. I didn’t give any portable toilet a chance. Eventually, Marc and I were tired out and went home. We didn’t camp there.
The other day (June 3rd) I found out that not many “staff” people camped there. It’s just much better to sleep in a dry warm bed.
The weather was much nicer. Marc and I went on hiking. Starting off from the performance stage, walking through dead branches and falling leaves, we found a hiking trail. We gorgeously hiked for one and half hour. The view was amazingly pretty at the top of the “mountain” (from a Pennsylvanian point of view). It was a plateau up there. Grass was freshly green. Tree trunks were deadly white but still straight from tip in the sky to root in the ground. Air was openly refreshing. Some rocks decorated randomly. The picture was great, and I condemned my forgetting carrying my camera.
We walked (and I slid) down a wide path for animals. Well, that’s what Marc speculated. It was like in Brokeback Mountain the movie, the path in mountains where sheep was going.
It was a very interesting and new experience for me anyway.
Joe was brilliant that he found an abandoned rusty van and turned it into an oven. An oven where the sausages were smoked. Smoked by burning apple tree branches inside the van.
The sausages turned out to be the most delicious food I had in the weekend. Very juicy, tasty, and chewy.
With my red staff T-shirt, I helped selling some sausages, T-shirts, and burritos.
In the kitchen, I saw a guy making brownies.
He said something that I didn’t register. I just smiled and walked away.
Later, Marc came to me with a brownie. I had a bite. Marc suggested me not to have more because there was “something” in it. I felt nothing and tasted nothing and cared nothing.
Before heading to the Wilcox Hotel’s performance (Jason and Ryan’s band), the brownie guy offered me another piece. Kirk saw me and asked me if I knew what that was. I said it’s a brownie. He may have thought I knew exactly what I would experience later. Actually I was way too innocent in this case.
After the Wilcox Hotel show, I was looking for a nice spot for my natural call. It was too dark in the woods. I didn’t feel like to pee under the condition that I could not see the environment where dogs and wild animals were running around. Finally, I used a portable toilet. What could I do!!?? I hated and still hate a portable toilet. It was one of the disgusting things in the world. My worst experience was in the Central Park of New York. That was a hot day. The toilet was FULL of unbreathable stuff. The seat was muddy. The… I don’t want to recall that event. Anyway I had to give in last Saturday night; otherwise my bladder would explode. It was okay. Some deodorant worked well. The “container” was not stuffed. There was even toilet paper. My goose bumps went off anyway but my mood did not change too much after using the toilet.
You know what, I could not help thinking about the portable toilet joke or tragedy when I was in the booth. The story went with a guy in one portable toilet in a parking lot. A car backing up bumped into the booth and pushed it down. The guy in the booth of course was horrified and smeared and pissed (the punch line).
Chatting on and off, I became bored and cold. It was me or the temperature? I was shivering. I went to sit down near the bonfire. Not for long, I went into the house and sat down on the couch and picked out my book to read. I could not focus on any single word. Literally unable to focus. My eyes were out of control. They just did not fixate at any location. I thought I may have got a cold or something because my head started aching.
Then Marc came along and asked me if I was alright. He told me the brownie now was digested and effects were showing up. I didn’t believe him at first. Later, I tried to stand up but my knees could not straight up or support my trunk. I knew something was up.
My whole body was obviously shaking now. Thomas came to sit beside me and tried to comfort me. He also had taken one piece but because of his body fat and his history of substance usage, he was fine and relaxed. Relaxed. He told me to be relaxed, which was supposed to be the effect of the brownie. I was not relaxed at all. I just wanted to stop trembling. Even my teeth were hitting each other. I figured the least uncomfortable state was to keep my eyes closed. Seeing a shaking world (due to my shaking eyeballs) was not very nerve-soothing.
Marc and I went to the balcony to be isolated from the crowd. Sick people were not allowed to be in a party because we depressed the atmosphere. I was being mentally mean and physically weak. Marc left me for help. People said drinking lots of water would help. Thus I was given bottles of water. People said throwing up would help. Thus there was a barrel for me to vomit.
I leaned on the damp couch, eyes closed, hearing people’s asking if I was alright. Matt, the neighbor of Kirk, came to pat my head and give me a bottle of water. Marc hugged me with his also shaking body. He didn’t feel well either. He said either the dosage was too high or the quality was bad. Either way, I should have not had it because I never had had it before.
I vomited. I drank water. I don’t remember how long we stayed there on the balcony damp couch. Kirk led me upstairs to lie down. He had one piece too but was okay.
Sara and Eric gave us a ride back home.
By the way, on the KirkStock Logo, by the guitar string, there was the signature of the designer, R. Gill. That was Sara’s sister. She drove 5 hours from Ohio to attend to this KirkStock thing. Very devoted. Actually many people came from distant places. A guy came from Texas because he has known Kirk for many years. Some fans of bands drove long way here. Many performers were not living in State College or any where in Pennsylvania.
I vomited for the second time on the way home. Sara pulled over and switched down the window for me. I felt bad that my vomited thing touched her car, but felt much better in stomach.
If that was the feeling of being drunk, I will not get drunk ever.
If that was the feeling of being high, I will get high with coffee only.
I slept almost all day on Sunday. That’s it. My brownie story.
I have preferred to follow Zabeth and Marc’s lead to sip some good beer and wine, now even so.
I liked the Brown Bird guy from New York. You can click on his link on the KirkStock.com
He was the most entertaining singer in the weekend. Wide mouth. Impressive outfit. Blue or jazz-ish style of singing. Great voice. He made me smile all the time when he’s on stage. That’s a natural high.