The worst part of last night was how badly I wanted a beer after the class. I finally got it at the ICE-O-PLEX's excellent snack bar, (after being carded! Sir, in honor of my upcoming 29th birthday, I thank you for mistaking me for someone who is not yet a grownup) drank 1/3 of it, then spilled it in slow motion across a table as no less than 5 other Robby Glantz students who were waiting for their beer from the nice man handing out beer gasped in horror.

They let me cut in line to buy another one, understanding my grief.

Speaking of grief...

Who's #1?
If you asked my Alice who number one was, when she was in the right mood, (one where she gazed at us lovingly and wasn't so hungry that she needed a treat as payment for a variety of tricks), she would put one paw up and give you a high (really, very low -- she was 12.5 inches tall) four (no dewclaws). It was the cutest thing, something she pretty much only did for me and Andrea, and occassionally, Brad.

In starting a new hockey team, I've been able to choose my own number. I was going to go with #30, which has been my Snow Cones number for 2 seasons, but then I realized there was a better option.

I'm #1. Not because I'm actually #1 but because she was and because there's nobody else I'd like to honor than her.

I had planned to have Dude on the back of that jersey (Sabrina was going to have Sweet, see "Dude, Where's my Car" for cross-reference) but since I'm honoring Alice, I'll go with the more traditional Dow-tay! since she was a Dow-tay! too. (Zeus has Andrea's last name since he's her dog, Rainie is hypenated and now Gus seems to have my last name too.)

So here's to you MissAlice. You're number one and always will be. I miss you still with every breath.