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As of last Friday, I'm now legal to drink anywhere in the world (including Virginia). Of course, the fact that I spent last fall in Ireland where the drinking age is 18 robs this of much of it's impact, but still. *grins* My sister sent me an Air Force Academy shot glass.
Unfortunately, I didn't do the traditional 12st drunken bash, because instead of going to the dirt track race in Ohio with my Dad (and it would have rocked, too--it was at a country fair, and one of the racers held a huge party afterwards), I was drafted into seeing The Merchant of Venice in Harrisonburg with my Mom, my Nana, my great aunt Mary, and my 13-year-old cousin Kelly. Of course, that was also fun, since it was Shakespeare.
What wasn't fun was going to my Dad's mother's for two days afterwards--because while we were there we took her dog Shaggy to the emergency vet in Cary Town--she was limping--and discovered that she has cancer. How the Hell her regular vet, who updated her shots two weeks ago, missed this, I have no idea.
Unfortunately, I didn't do the traditional 12st drunken bash, because instead of going to the dirt track race in Ohio with my Dad (and it would have rocked, too--it was at a country fair, and one of the racers held a huge party afterwards), I was drafted into seeing The Merchant of Venice in Harrisonburg with my Mom, my Nana, my great aunt Mary, and my 13-year-old cousin Kelly. Of course, that was also fun, since it was Shakespeare.
What wasn't fun was going to my Dad's mother's for two days afterwards--because while we were there we took her dog Shaggy to the emergency vet in Cary Town--she was limping--and discovered that she has cancer. How the Hell her regular vet, who updated her shots two weeks ago, missed this, I have no idea.