Tomorrow will be my first alcohol-as-trigger experiment, since I'm taking an overnight trip to Chicago with John's aunt to see the Cubs. My first visit to Wrigly Field! I've been a Cubs fan ever since my episodes of Scooby Doo would get pre-empted on WGN, so it's more than twenty years now. Everyone always wonders how this born and raised Omaha girl became a Cubs fan. It's due to the dawn of cable TV. We had cable when MTV and Nickelodeon came on the air. No matter what anyone says about today's cartoons, some of the freakiest shit ever was on Nickelodeon back then. I'd watch PBS over that crazy stuff. Those were the days... when cable not only meant a cable line running into your house, but running from your TV to your "remote". I should find one of those things to show my kids. That would crack them up more than my old clothes my mom sent me.

Anyway, Chicago. Love Chicago. Love the Cubs. Love Southwest Airlines for coming to Pittsburgh (finally). I am way excited, and American Express shold be too, because they will be getting their opportunity to redeem themselves with me. And make some money off of me, because I really shouldn't be going on this trip, but tickets were bought and promises made, and I would be in a very bad mood if I had to back out. Nobody likes to see me in a bad mood. I'm hard enough to stomach when I'm normal. So I'll be dining compliments of Amex. At least until the bill comes. And I've been squirreling away money here and there for my Wrigley Field Beer Fund, because everyone knows baseball park beer costs more than weapons-grade plutonium. But I'll be drinking it anyway. And they don't take American Express.

I'm packing the Vicodin. And lining my bag with Advil. I really really hope alcohol isn't the problem with my head, but if it is, I will not be caught off guard. I could stich a bag out of Advil, I would. I know they have drugstores in Chicago, but I cannot be crawling down the street to get there once I realize I need it. Yes, John's aunt would go for me, but I can't be the only person who hates asking. I'd rather wear the same clothes two days in a row to make sure I have enough drugs. But I don't think it will come to that. (Nothing like a little exaggeration.)

The worst part of this excursion is figuring out what to wear.

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One Year Ago Today: