Kirtag Schmirtag

Where livers go to die.
You probably saw on Facebook that I had a wild evening at the Neustifter Kirtag on Satuday. This once a year event is like my New Year's Eve - like when I was 20 and didn't have a toddler screaming  "MOOOOMMMMYYYYY!!" every ten minutes and knocking my Gatorade all over the sheets. Every year, for at least the past 4 years, I head to a friend's house in the vineyards and pre-party for the infamous Kirtag. Kirtag, loosely translated, means "dress in too tight traditional Austrian garb and tie one on" and by "tie one on", I mean, do some macrame around your liver. In recent years, these types of events have exploded in popularity. The dirndl is back "in" and that makes me happy. Well, happy when I can actually fit into one. This year, once again, I lost all feeling in my breasticles but.... worth it.
If I just breathe in, real tight....

Around 3 I got to my friend's house and a bottle of prosecco was popped open and it was the beginning of a very long day. More friends showed up and I battled the discomfort of my uniform with more drinks. The rain started to come down and we waited and drank for it to pass and then, with red solo cups in hand, we headed down the hill.
The hills are alive, with the sound of Tova yelling "ZOMG! SO PRETTY! I NEVER GET TIRED OF THIS VIEW! ISN'T IT PRETTY, EVERYBODY? SO PRETTY!"

The rain held off for long enough for us to get a shot of Pimms (yeah, that was random) and then it turned into a lemming type search to find cover. We weasled our way into one heuriger and then came time to really show dedication to Kirtag. Little note here, Heuriger wine will kill you. Heuriger wine plue Jaegermeister will kill your soul. So anyway, at one point, a friend and I had a brilliant idea to check out the back of a heuriger in the pouring rain. We fell, oh we fell. Mud, mud as far as the eye can see. At that point it became clear that it was time to call it a night. I hailed a cab and it wasn't until I got home did I finally see the extent of my "mud run".
The one real casualty of the night
The Husband was not pleased at the state of the tub the next morning "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT?!?!" I spent most of the morning inhaling things with cheese but by the late afternoon I felt human again and did some laundry. It was a rip-roaring good time and the last time for quite awhile until I pull another stunt like that. Bring on the smoothies! O Zapf!
Selfie in a dirndl, cause I can.

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