I had the same problem all throughout my time at Starbucks, maybe specially more so in the dry Colorado climate. Between the espresso duststorms and the high volume of time spent in hot dishwater, my hands get insanely dried out and start to crack like clay. It would be cool if I was actually made of clay and could fight Gotham's caped crusador, but sadly my special powers only include things like painful cuts and pruny skin. I have a feeling that being a tour guide will not be nearly so hard on my epidermis...though, I could be horribly, horribly wrong about that.
In the most recent hives news: I was struck with a theory late the other night that perhaps the itching plague all over my body was not an allergic reaction after all...but bug bites. It was quite the chilling revelation, but upon (briskly) changing my bedsheets, finding and killing a spider, and spending the last two nights in clean sheets...the bites seem to have subsided. The theory holds much closer with the facts, although it is still technically unproven. Thankfully, though, the itching has all but disappeared. (Too bad it wasn't a radioactive spider. Wouldn't it have been lame if Peter Parker was bitten by a spider, and the only effect was that he had serious itching for a few days?)
I ate some incredible BBQ tonight in Estes. "Big Dave's" was the name, and I violently consumed some St. Louis-style ribs, and smoked sausages that were cut in the shape of hearts (how masculine). The place gets four stars for offering my required four sauce options. The meat was delicious; full of flavor and free of fat. The sauces were delectable, and the sides were mighty fine (sweet potato fries, oh my!).
Now I'm going to run under the slamming library gate and check out a matinee showing of Angels and Demons. I'm skeptical, but at least very grateful that Tom Hanks left his mullet somewhere in The DaVinci Code. I just can't really tell my priest that I'm seeing this film. You understand.
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