<p>Earlier this week, I was in the midst of minding my own beeswax when Christy Jo popped out at me via e-mail. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>"Do you have plans this Friday?  I have a great blog idea!" </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>I <em>did</em> have plans:  watching <em>Young Frankenstein</em> outside on the lawn at the Biltmore.  But part of this blog is listening to your suggestions and acting on them if they fit into my soul-scintillating perameters.  I asked Christy Jo to please elaborate. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Christy Jo:</strong>  My sister-in-law and her hubby are having a Halloween party and they just bought a beer pong table! You’re never too old to play Beer Pong!!  This could be your quest to master the game! You will need a costume.  Are you in??</p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Me:  </strong>I don't like beer.  Do you double dog dare me? </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Chisty Jo:</strong>  Triple dog dare! </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Me:  </strong><em>(silence)</em></p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Christy Jo:  </strong>Does this mean you are in?? </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Me:</strong>  <em>(silence)</em></p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Christy Jo:</strong>  FYI...my bro-in-law has guitars and mics. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Me:  </strong>I'm in! </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Another series of emails 24 hours later...</p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Me:</strong>  Princess and the Pea has a request.  I have really bad beer memories from college, and I’m still all Pavlovian about it.  Can I mix margaritas or mojitos beforehand for my portion of the chugalug? </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Christy Jo:</strong>  Well, I can’t assure you that you won’t get flack for swapping out beer in beer pong.</p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Me:</strong>  Flack is bloggable.  Playing Margarita Pong or Mojito Pong is bloggable.</p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p><strong>Christy Jo:</strong>  Go for it! We can peel you off the floor and get you home at some point.</p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Allow me to feed you a bit of beer "backstory" here.  I have never liked beer.  Ever. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>When I was a little kid, my Papa used to drink a beer with dinner.  I tasted it and hated it.  My sister tasted it and loved it.  My mother yelled at Papa for allowing us to taste it in the first place.  But hey -- he was Portuguese.  Europeans are more relaxed about these things. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Fast forward to college, and it's St. Patrick's Day in New York City.  And I'm dating the president of a fraternity.  (We were so mismatched.  It was very <em>Romeo and Juliet</em>.)</p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Anywho, what goes with St. Patrick's Day and New York City?  Beer!  Green beer, in this case.  I drank it even though I nearly gagged.  I then suffered the WORST headache of my entire existence.  I thought that my head would EXPLODE!  I have never felt so rotten from drinking. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>So now you know why Beer Pong does not entice me.  In fact, just the thought of Beer Pong makes me my head throb. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Are you on the edge of your chair ready to find out what happens next?  Did Late Bloomer Michelle invent a new game called Margarita Pong?  Mojito Pong? </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Well...as you may recall, this week seemed to follow a theme of Life Happens When You're Making Plans. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>No Margaritas.  No Mojitos.  Other choices:  Vodka = throbbing stomach.  Beer = pounding head. </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>Late Bloomer = I'll do whatever the hell I want!  I'll "just say no" <em>even when it's a triple dog dare</em>! </p>

<p><br class="spacer_" /></p>

<p>AND here's the trickiest part:  I honestly don't feel guilty about it.  :-D<br class="spacer_" /></p>