I am allergic to Shreveport.

I started sneezing as soon as I crossed the border into Louisiana, and I stopped when I crossed back over eight hours later.  Huh.

Today was my orientation from the bank, and I had to drive, oh, an hour and a half each way to sit in a room with six other new hires and fill out paperwork.  Riveting.  But everyone was super friendly, I got a free lunch, and I'll be reimbursed for everything.  I start at my branch tomorrow.

Dad's test results came back today.  I got the news when I called my mom to tell her I was on my way back to Tyler.  It's not cancer.  It's a touch of pneumonia, and it's something he can beat.  He's fine, though I still have to keep pushing him to improve his lifestyle.  I may have to start force-feeding him.

I'm still recovering somewhat from Jessica's massive graduation kegger Saturday night.  I was all ready to take lots of incriminating photos.  I get to her house and realize that I've left my memory card at home.  F*ck.  Kristi and some guy named Mike took photos and promised to get them to me.  I got completely trashed on some odd combination of Miller Light, Shiner Bock, Red Bull and Vodka, and Sour Apple Puckers, then proceeded to tell stupid stories and take ten dozen trips to the bathroom, paranoid that the entire party was hovering outside the bathroom window trying to get a glance at my white Irish ass.  I smoked almost an entire pack of cigarettes between the hours of 8pm and 4am (when I had two left, they mysteriously disappeared and I don't know if they were stolen, or I inadvertently mistook them for Pocky and ate them.  It's a little blurry.), and now sound like one of Marge Simpson's sisters.  Scary stuff.  There was one almost-fight, one guy passed out in his car, one botched trip to the pub to "rescue" a douchebag, and a two-hour session of acoustic "jams".  Kumbaya, my ass.  All in all, it was quite a fun evening/morning.

I am so tired. 

Oh, and apparently, a large bird of prey decided that my helpless little car was the perfect spot for a drive-by shitting.  The pattern reminds me of a Spin-Out shirt I had in the fourth grade.