To think, I used to do shots of tequila before going to school each morning

I will tell you a secret, Interweb: I have lost the ability to drink. 

I am not sure where it went. It was a skill that I relied heavily upon in my early twenties. I can say things like "early twenties" now because I have very nearly reached the 25, which is officially mid-twenty. Regardless, I woke-up one day, after a night of drinking, and realized that I actually had a hangover. There may not have been vomit (I have never been one to vomit the next day), but boy did I ever have a head ache. Not just any headache either, it was a bastard headache that refused to go away no matter what I did. Did you know that headaches could be illegitimate? They can. 

I feel like this is one of the first signs that I am truly getting old. 

Upon returning home, I have developed a new respect for double-ply toilet paper

I just returned from my annual week-long foray into the woods (read: Algonquin Park) with a group of teenagers. 

As per usual, it was chocked full of dirty words and talk of bodily functions. I am not going to lie, the talk of bodily functions was primarily me talking to myself aloud about the indigestion I was experiencing. Every so often, I would corner one of the teenagers and over share, telling them how many trips to the outhouse I had made that hour alone. 

On one of my many trips to the outhouse, one poor camper (whom I had briefly left unattended at the site in order to take care of "business") was terrorized by a moose who came charging through our site. I heard the feral animal galloping past my kybo of choice and, had I not already been pooping, probably would have soiled myself. 

It took a long time for me to realize they were talking about the other kind of pap

I was reading an article some time ago in which a female celebrity voiced her disapproval of "pap pictures," expressing that she felt they were an invasion of privacy. While reading the article, I nodded vigorously in what I perceived to be understanding.

Whenever I hear the term "pap," I do not think of paparazzi. I think of pap smears. Because of this, I was shocked and horrified as I leafed through the article. Why would the general public be so interested in pap pictures? And what perverse magazines were spending upwards of $10,000 for pap photos? Needless to say, I found the whole situation very disturbing. 

Being a Good Sister

In order to better bond as a family, and perhaps better prepare him for University, I became insistent upon fabricating a beer funnel for my little brother. He is going to be somewhat far away from home this coming fall, and I wanted to ensure he had a surefire way to bond with his peers. 

Thus, we made a trip to the Home Depot on a Thursday afternoon and purchased 10 feet of tubing, one ball valve and two hose clamps. Later on, I  made a solo trip to Canadian Tire to purchase an over-sized funnel. The individuals working in the Auto Department looked at me curiously when I asked them if they had a funnel large enough to fit two beers in. 

After a few false starts, Project Funnel was complete. "I will stand on the stairs here, and you will sit there on that bench," I told my brother. "I will pour the beer into the funnel, and then, when you are ready, you will open the valve and ingest the beer at a rate that is faster than you usually would. You should probably wait until most of the foam has dissipated, otherwise you will probably be very gassy."

My brother looked at me and nodded, but the truth is that I have only observed funneling in the past and never actually partook in it myself. After all, I am a lady, and I do not particularly care for beer.