This Is The World That We Live In, I Feel Myself Get Tired

St. Patrick's Day is pretty much a pointless holiday, unless you drink, which I don't. But it's a good reason to have a huge race in Seattle right? Well my brother Matt and I think so and we participated in the St. Pat's Day Dash early this morning. It's just a quick 3 3/4 ish mile run around Seattle starting near the Key Arena (As I walked past the arena I felt a surge of anger at all the Sonics games I will never get to attend, then it passed and I wondered if they would let people play basketball in there since they are clearly not using it for NBA games. I'm sure they don't) and going around town a bit ending back near the E.M.P. (that odd shaped building in Seattle Center that is filled with music memorabilia that I love) There were over 8,000 people in the run, I think way more than that actually. It was ridiculous! Matt and I reached the enormous crowd with about one minute before start time to safety pin our numbers and tie our chips to our shoes, then we were off and lost in the mess of people. I couldn't have felt more cliche with rain pouring down on me as I hit the shuffle button on my iPod and Drain You-Nirvana was the first song that came up. I smiled, turned it up and started weaving my way through the other runners. The rain lasted the entire run and well into the rest of the day. Nothing is more invigorating than running in the rain, I highly suggest it to anyone. Less than a half hour later I crossed the finish line and found my brother who had finished a couple minutes before me. We wandered around the booths and grabbed as much free stuff as possible and people watched (we do that A LOT, try it it's awesome). Nothing like a bunch of people dressed as leprechauns and getting drunk on a Sunday morning. I laughed at the funny ones then left so I could go to church.

After church and some reading/napping I went downstairs to help with dinner. I was trying to open a can of pineapples to put on the pizza we were making and sliced my finger pretty insanely bad. I kind of just stood there staring at it in shock as the blood gushed all over the counter until my dad grabbed a paper towel and started putting pressure on it. My step mom was freaking out and saying I needed to get stitches, and my dad was messing with my finger trying to get it to stop bleeding and asking if I felt light headed because I was loosing a lot of blood, all the while I was just standing there silently like - wow this is pretty annoying and I'm pretty hungry. I didn't want stitches and it should heal fine, but I will probably have a nasty scar. Good thing though, you know it is pretty important to me that I always remember that time we made pizza for dinner. You just can't let the good memories slip away.