The best laid plans . . .

Last night sooooo did not turn out the way that I'd expected -- in fact, it turned out better.

I left work a little worried that I'd be late to the fundraiser because I was wanting to go home and change my pants. As luck would have it, pomegranate lipgloss had dripped on my pants earlier in the day, meaning I had a lovely berry-colored stain on one leg. Fabulous.

In a last minute change of plans, I opted not to go home because the stain was located near the inseam of one leg and I rationalized a.) most people wouldn't be looking at that spot on my pants, and b.) that I could always just keep my legs crossed and no one will notice at all.

The fundraiser started off a little . . . erm, boring. (Sorry, Adam -- I doubt you're reading this, but just in case . . .) Political fundraisers are reputed to be a little dry and this one lived up to that. It got progressively more interesting (one gentleman stopped by claiming to be the most accurate, prolific prophet alive today -- we didn't really know how to take that) and ended with me and Adam -- the campaign manager and possibly my long lost cousin (we have the same last name) -- hanging out afterwards with another friend and some leftover wine.

My mom had sent me a text earlier asking if we could postpone our run, so at that point, I decided to relax and not stress about the agenda for the rest of the evening. I was at the restaurant until almost 11. They had kicked us out of the restaurant to close and we all still sat in the parking lot and chatted for a while longer.

I didn't get to bed quite as early as I'd hoped, but it was a much better night than anticipated. Today, I'm wearing green and sipping birch beer with lunch. (All of my readers and blog buddies on the east coast probably know exactly what I'm talking about, but let me tell you, finding birch beer in California is like trying to find a four-leaf clover (not impossible, but pretty frickin' hard!) I haven't had this stuff since I lived in Pennsylvania! (It's been at least fifteen years!)

Kudos to Mollie Stone's for carrying birch beer and a happy St. Patrick's Day to all! I am celebrating my diluted Irish heritage by eating potato chips. (Hey, potatoes are an Irish staple, no? Okay . . . maybe I'll pick up some soda bread too. Ha ha ha.)