Spent Friday roaming the wonderful Biltmore with The Husband and some friends. Free passes, some coupons, and a special tour offering started off a fun day that peaked with a delicious meal at Cedric's Tavern. When a restaurant and bar is named after a St. Bernard, it's either going to be good or be full of doghair. We got good.
We wandered and looked and shivered because it was windy and chilly on Friday, and it's impossible to dress for being both outside and inside without carrying a lot of clothing. So I just went with being cold, as it's a lot easier for me than being too warm.
We'd gone back to Cedric's to purchase some of their signature Brown Ale, which The Husband and Friend 1 had taken a liking to. While Friend 2 and I found a place to sit with Zeus, she began to tell me True Dog Stories about her Chinese Crested. The menfolk returned and we settled down at one of the outdoor tables. Friend 2 started a particular dog anecdote, I laughed, and while laughing threw back my head (it was very funny). My head chimed against the metal support pole directly behind me.
Ow. In fact, Ow twice. And other words, although I was too stunned to actually utter the collection of profanity that tried to spring into my dizzy brain. Both friends jumped and The Husband rolled his eyes, got up, and massaged my neck and shoulders, since I'd obviously whiplashed myself. Friend 1 had sympathy shudders. Yes, I made noise. But as I didn't lose consciousness and after a few minutes the Ow wore off, I had nothing to show but a small lump.
I often suspect my gift for giving myself whacks on the head has been the deciding factor in most of my mental disorders. It's just not healthy to rattle one's brain around like that. One day I might get curious and go for medical testing to determine just how battered my poor cranium is -- not that anything can be done, but just for bragging rights.