This weekend one of our best friends got married and Barry was a groomsman. So last night we are at the rehearsal dinner near the beach. It's cold and windy and the preacher forgot, so we are waiting 3 hours for him to get to the beach. What else to do? but drink! Wine and beer a-plenty was flowin' to warm our bodies. They had Chateau St. Michelle Riesling, which i thought i remember having before and loving it! I even give Barry a sip and say Mmmmm! isn't is good? After just one glass i was feeling pretty loopy, since i hadn't had lunch that day. And then they brought out some nuts to snack on until dinner was ready. So I'm chomping on nuts and sipping my wine. Feeling good and visiting friends. Until i start getting these bug bites. And me, of course, starts complaining about the bugs and why i didn't see them. Is no one else getting bitten? Oh, my drink is empty! Another glass? SURE! Well, my grandpa did say i was "Mandi Pandy, Sweet as Candy". The bugs always liked me more anyway. Hm. Dinner starts. Another glass is poured. I'm scratching away on my legs and feet and right under my wedding ring. I start complaining to Barry. Barry, I'm DYING. They're killing me. Barry says to "stop scratching, you look like a heroin addict." But i can't help it! I go to the bathroom to look at my legs and i FREAK OUT. i have "bug bites" more than i have leg skin. It looked like cottage cheese on my thighs, but red and splotchy. I go back and I'm like, uh, Barry, i think we need to go to the hospital. Only now do they say, oh you could have hives. It starts on my stomach and back, and on my chest and arms. THEN i get nervous and my chest starts feeling tight and my throat feels like it's closing in. No good. It's my best friends wedding weekend, and here i am having an allergic reaction to something. poo. So Barry finds out where the closest hospital is and off we go. We get to the hospital at 7:15 and we were seen at like 7:25. They don't mess with throats closing in, i guess. After a quick cocktail of benadril, zantac, and salu-trol something or other, we're back to the party by 9:00! My husband called me a soldier. Hard core partier. :)
But no more Chateau St. Michelle for me. Sucks, 'cause it was SO GOOD!