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beer and bruises

this time last year i was in philadelphia, pa., scoping out the scene and cheesesteaks on south street.

today for friend ru’s birthday we toured kansas city’s own boulevard brewing co. i’m not much of a beer drinker (translation: one sip gives my face a wry pucker), but it was interesting (oh, meaningless word, how loathable yet useful you are) to see the beer-making process from barley through bottling. their space is  beautiful, too — lots of hardwood floors and paneling, lots of glass. a beautiful view out the second-story windows of the downtown skyline and the new performing arts center.

after the tour came the tasting room, where we could sample as many as four of seven brews they had on tap.

i managed to drain my 3-ounce glass during our 30 minutes. told you i wasn’t a beer drinker. it was stout, however, a rather curious beverage. maybe you’re wondering “why on earth would a nondrinker choose to sample stout?” it was dark and fascinating, that’s why, and tasted of coffee. after drinking it i feel like i should be in an english hunting lodge ornamented with animal head trophies.

but, you know, my conclusion is that something like woodchuck is mild enough for me. (interesting note: my friend strawberry says woodchuck is ‘girl’s beer, for people who can’t drink real beer,’ but woodchuck’s 5% alcohol content matches up with the boulevard stout’s 4.9% [by volume; it’s 3.9% by weight. yeah, i have no idea what that means.])

in other news, i discovered on my morning bike ride why it’s a good idea not to cycle down the sidewalk.

know the answer? low-hanging trees.

yep, that’s right, i took a tumble toward the sidewalk, and we met each other firmly. i was surprised, actually(and relieved), that i didn’t start gushing blood from the points of impact. i usually ooze a little bit, at least, even if i’ve just scraped my hand or caught my leg on the pedal (that episode of clumsiness somehow left scars). this time i just bruised. i didn’t realize until this evening how often i hold my right forearm with my left hand. many silent ows! have resulted from accidentally touching my swollen stretch of arm. my abdomen and knee also got into the action, albeit on a smaller scale.

thank goodness. my cousin’s wedding is in a little less than a month, and i told my mom i’d have to stop doing any kind of exercise about two weeks before so all the bruises on my legs could heal up (with skirts two inches above the knee, and very white legs, it’s a little hard to hide the results of my adventures). but i’m so accident-prone i don’t think even that would save me.

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