"Who's this Kiawah person? I thought Drew was marrying somebody named Liz?"

I'm back from my whirlwind trip to South Carolina. Drew & Liz's wedding was absoultely beuatiful -- ceremony on the 18th hole, intimate and awesome reception in the club house. My adventure started off flying blindly into Charleston, to be picked up by a car full of dudes that I'd never met. After the requisite Hokie vs. Wahoo ribbing, I was informed that we were on our way to a bar in Charleston, not the house in Kiawah, and that we were out for the night (this at 2:30pm). Sure, ok!

Va Tech won, UVA won, Redskins won, all was happy in Club Wedding. I think we drank all of the beer in the low country. I mean it -- every single beer. There was much poker playing, shit shooting, drunk nonsense talking, night swimming, phosphorescence gawking, beach exploring, dancing, singing, and all those good things. But more than anything else, there were mosquitoes. Horrible, terrible, blood thirsty bastards who've left me scarred beyond belief. Since it's ya know, October, I'm off my usual warm-weather regiment of bug bite deterrence (vitamin b, skin so soft instead of any perfume or scented lotion). But since this weather is, just totally and completely stupid, those jerks were out in full force. There's no part of my body that's not swollen, red and itching like nothing has ever itched before right now. I bought a tube of benadryl this morning that I'm pretty sure will be gone by the time I leave the office. So, I'm itchy, mildly grumpy, but had an excellent trip.

Oh, also, one of the guys I met for the first time this weekend and proceeded to live in a house with, kept leaving me out of the count of girls staying in the house. He said it's because I don't seem like a girl -- I seem like one of the guys. Uh, thanks? Shut up? How do I take this?