"One of our members has invited you to join SinglesNet!"
~I'm sorry WTF?! Did you talk to my husband since I last did? I mean sure, we bicker, but I thought that was normal for most couples. M-Fer, I call dibs on the dog.
"Free DIET Sample Pack for YOU!"
~Yeah, and your mom's a hoe.
"OUR MEMBER WANTS TO MEET YOU."
~Well, I have a 'Member' at home thank you very much, and he doesn't email me IN ALL CAPS.
"Find True Love, You Can Start Tonight!"
~Excuse me, do you know Mr. SinglesNet?
"Play this game for free right now and get $999 free."
~A) Did anyone ever tell you you're redundant? And B) I may have been born at night, but I know $999 isn't free, it costesses 9 hundred and ninety-nine dollars, Dipwad.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
In Under the Wire
Do you know what I love, Internet? I absolutely LOVE when I get a brand spanking new shit-ton of work handed to me at 2:46pm on Friday afternoon. Doesn't that sound fun? Are you kinda jealous of me now? It's okay.
So before I bury myself up to my bazoongas in this project, I figured I should sit right down here and write you a little love note. Em kay?
G-man and I returned from Key West, F to the LA on Wednesday and what a lovely time we had. The first hotel was beautiful and came complete with a free, all you can eat breakfast buffet, can we say yes mam to the Make Your Own Waffle Station? Yes Mam! We rented a little Corolla in the morning to drive down US-1 to Key West, which according to Mapquest should have taken us 3hrs 29minutes, but in reality-land, where everyone besides Mapquest techies live, it took us close to 5 hours. But who cared? It was beautiful scenery and the water is 324 shades of blue down there, throw in the fact that my eye lubricating water didn't freeze when I stuck my head out of the window like it would have done in seconds had we been in New York, and I was a pretty happy camper. Our second hotel, which may or may not have been called the Holiday Inn Key West, was a near disaster zone, complete with the screaming nighttime neighbor ritual that consisted of her accusing him of shoving her down and him accusing her of falling because she was so drunk, etc etc. But for $183/night, it was still the cheapest hotel on the island and I was willing to make some allowances.
We ate t.o.n.s. of seafood and layered it with pieces of Key Lime pie and Key Lime ice cream - which can make anybody's day 10 times better. I wasn't aware that March in Key West is the Midwest Vacation Mecca of the US and every other license plate was from Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, or Minnesota. While comforting to be amongst some of my own kind, I suspected come Easter morning there was going to be a shortage of hosts at the altar and no where to sit at St. Mary Star of the Sea. I totally hit the nail on the proverbial head. People, I have never seen so many sunburnt Catholic vacationers in my entire 27 years. There must have been a thousand or more. They were multiplying like loaves and fishes up in that piece. But the tears in the priest's eyes during his homily was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.
Hunter behaved himself at the kennel while we were away, thank the sweet Lord. He also had a love affair with my friend Stacey, which I am more than happy to indulge, considering it may give me a way out of this city now again. Although, listening to Stace tell stories about what the two of them did while we were away kinda makes me jealous that I didn't get to join in the fun. You just can't win, can you?
Baby update: The Fetus with the Mostest is running circles around my abdomen by day and night. I think the fact that I crave sleep more than any human being alive, or gone, has destined me to give birth to a child who will never shut it's eyes. This is a slightly devastating possibility that I will refrain from acknowledging until absolutely necessary. I'm gaining pounds by the milisecond, and now the maternity pants I bought, maternity, don't fit anymore. But I'm joyously forging where ever my appetite takes me because I can, mostly. And I promise, one of these days I'm totally going to break out that Yoga dvd again... Totally.
So before I bury myself up to my bazoongas in this project, I figured I should sit right down here and write you a little love note. Em kay?
G-man and I returned from Key West, F to the LA on Wednesday and what a lovely time we had. The first hotel was beautiful and came complete with a free, all you can eat breakfast buffet, can we say yes mam to the Make Your Own Waffle Station? Yes Mam! We rented a little Corolla in the morning to drive down US-1 to Key West, which according to Mapquest should have taken us 3hrs 29minutes, but in reality-land, where everyone besides Mapquest techies live, it took us close to 5 hours. But who cared? It was beautiful scenery and the water is 324 shades of blue down there, throw in the fact that my eye lubricating water didn't freeze when I stuck my head out of the window like it would have done in seconds had we been in New York, and I was a pretty happy camper. Our second hotel, which may or may not have been called the Holiday Inn Key West, was a near disaster zone, complete with the screaming nighttime neighbor ritual that consisted of her accusing him of shoving her down and him accusing her of falling because she was so drunk, etc etc. But for $183/night, it was still the cheapest hotel on the island and I was willing to make some allowances.
We ate t.o.n.s. of seafood and layered it with pieces of Key Lime pie and Key Lime ice cream - which can make anybody's day 10 times better. I wasn't aware that March in Key West is the Midwest Vacation Mecca of the US and every other license plate was from Ohio, Michigan, Illinois, or Minnesota. While comforting to be amongst some of my own kind, I suspected come Easter morning there was going to be a shortage of hosts at the altar and no where to sit at St. Mary Star of the Sea. I totally hit the nail on the proverbial head. People, I have never seen so many sunburnt Catholic vacationers in my entire 27 years. There must have been a thousand or more. They were multiplying like loaves and fishes up in that piece. But the tears in the priest's eyes during his homily was one of the coolest things I've ever seen.
Hunter behaved himself at the kennel while we were away, thank the sweet Lord. He also had a love affair with my friend Stacey, which I am more than happy to indulge, considering it may give me a way out of this city now again. Although, listening to Stace tell stories about what the two of them did while we were away kinda makes me jealous that I didn't get to join in the fun. You just can't win, can you?
Baby update: The Fetus with the Mostest is running circles around my abdomen by day and night. I think the fact that I crave sleep more than any human being alive, or gone, has destined me to give birth to a child who will never shut it's eyes. This is a slightly devastating possibility that I will refrain from acknowledging until absolutely necessary. I'm gaining pounds by the milisecond, and now the maternity pants I bought, maternity, don't fit anymore. But I'm joyously forging where ever my appetite takes me because I can, mostly. And I promise, one of these days I'm totally going to break out that Yoga dvd again... Totally.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Dear Carrot Top Muffin,
Hi Lover, how are you today? I'm great now that I have you. You know that feeling when it's Friday and everyone and their mom is off of work because it's a Catholic holiday and yes, people of New York actually celebrate this as a non-work day even though they all trash talk Catholicism like it's the devil. Well, I guess it's not the devil when it gives you the day off, huh? Where are you know Civil Liberty Nazi's? Sorry, morning rant now over. Anyways - everyone and their moms are off work but you sorry b*s*a*d have to go to work? Yeah, I know that feeling too and even though I was totally having that feeling 20 seconds ago, now I'm not and it's because of you, Carrot Top Muffin. You turned my whole day around and I salute you. And as if that weren't enough, you just came out of the oven and you're still warm... I cannot even express my affection for you now. It's too much. (sigh)
Also, Hot Chocolate Made with Real Milk, you're not so bad yourself.
See? It doesn't take a lot in life to make a girl happy. Just some carrots and some raisins and some Cinnamon and add a dash of cocoa. I'm totally ready to take on whatever today has to cram down my throat, teeth and all.
Thank you, Carrot Top Muf and Hot Cocoa Sidekick (to the theme of the Budweiser commercial), I salute you.
Love,
Your Benevolent Consumer
Also, Hot Chocolate Made with Real Milk, you're not so bad yourself.
See? It doesn't take a lot in life to make a girl happy. Just some carrots and some raisins and some Cinnamon and add a dash of cocoa. I'm totally ready to take on whatever today has to cram down my throat, teeth and all.
Thank you, Carrot Top Muf and Hot Cocoa Sidekick (to the theme of the Budweiser commercial), I salute you.
Love,
Your Benevolent Consumer
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Beginning to Feel Like Something's Going on Down There
For the past two or so weeks I've been having these feelings crawling across my lower abdomen. Much like a four year old sticking her fingers into your gut roll to see how squishy it really is. This, I have come to realize, is the babe. Did I tell you it was a him? It's a him. I love knowing it's a him so now I don't have to say "he or she" or "him slash her" every time I refer to "him" out of fear of causing him to be gender confused at birth. You're a him! Hi! You're a he! You have a penis! Or so that's what the ultrasound tech said it was, looked kind of like a white dash to me, but hey, I'm not certified.
So, his busiest times are in the morning as I sit typing trying to concentrate on my work - which is a feat in itself minus the swimming bean, and at night when I lay down to sleep. It's so crazy when we sit and think about what he's doing in there. Does he get bored? Is he like, alright, enough of this fleshy womb and heartbeat stuff? Give me some toys or a pet or something. I bet he totally wants to text message someone and is so pissed he doesn't have a phone in there.
So, his busiest times are in the morning as I sit typing trying to concentrate on my work - which is a feat in itself minus the swimming bean, and at night when I lay down to sleep. It's so crazy when we sit and think about what he's doing in there. Does he get bored? Is he like, alright, enough of this fleshy womb and heartbeat stuff? Give me some toys or a pet or something. I bet he totally wants to text message someone and is so pissed he doesn't have a phone in there.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Quoteboard 2nd Edition
Per 5+ hour car ride this past weekend, the quoteboard overfloweth:
* Obviously, it was his PACKAGE.
* I definitely 'Your mom'd' my mom. And you just don't do that.
* You just can't get out of this F-ing city!
* Remember when you said "684 exit 1"? Not "684 exit 20"?!
* I had, like, 20 beers, but they were small ones that were kind of large.
* I'm sorry if my story offended you in any way or if I was a little too open there. (Said to the 78 year old retired Kindergarten teacher.)
* Obviously, it was his PACKAGE.
* I definitely 'Your mom'd' my mom. And you just don't do that.
* You just can't get out of this F-ing city!
* Remember when you said "684 exit 1"? Not "684 exit 20"?!
* I had, like, 20 beers, but they were small ones that were kind of large.
* I'm sorry if my story offended you in any way or if I was a little too open there. (Said to the 78 year old retired Kindergarten teacher.)
Monday, March 17, 2008
As If I Need More Conflict In My Life
Hi, you've reached the Laugh More blog. While you'd think this was an away message stating I was off doing some crazy fun St. Patrick's Day-esque activity instead of writing a new post today, I'm not. I just have too damn much work to do to release my creative juices onto you right now. Are you sad? Did you really need new creative juice today? I know, I know. And I'm sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?
OH I KNOW!
Why don't I recap-in-a-flash Friday night's poker game at our house with our two couple friends? Shall I? Obe-Kabe. It goes like this: work sucked, had to stay late, no time to prepare for guests, naked when doorbell rings announcing guests' arrival, sweating buckets, one guest brings Yorkie dog, enormous headache, everyone eats, sitting and talking, dogs playing, HUNTER EATING YORKIE. Me screaming, friends horrified, end of evening, sad sadness. More sad guilty sadness. The end.
Who wants to come over for a puppy play date?!? ANYONE? NO? REALLY? WHY?
OH I KNOW!
Why don't I recap-in-a-flash Friday night's poker game at our house with our two couple friends? Shall I? Obe-Kabe. It goes like this: work sucked, had to stay late, no time to prepare for guests, naked when doorbell rings announcing guests' arrival, sweating buckets, one guest brings Yorkie dog, enormous headache, everyone eats, sitting and talking, dogs playing, HUNTER EATING YORKIE. Me screaming, friends horrified, end of evening, sad sadness. More sad guilty sadness. The end.
Who wants to come over for a puppy play date?!? ANYONE? NO? REALLY? WHY?
Monday, March 10, 2008
Weekend In Snowbound Nutshell
So this happened. And I'm knocked up so I couldn't even snowboard. Even though there aren't so much "mountains" in Ohio as much as "hills" that are really "mounds" barely higher than my "kneecaps". (I had a thing going there, did you see?)
But let me backtrack to the actual act of getting home for the weekend: In route to Columbus on Friday morning my lovely pilot, Pilot Dan, decided to turn the plane around, and send us back to New York only to wait on the plane for 40 minutes before he told us he was going to and I quote, "Try this again" end quote. Fantastic. Let's just "try" this whole thing with the flying and the 38,000 feet altitude, and the landing part in a FREAKING BLIZZARD. Yeah, let's just try it. I mean, how bad could it be if it doesn't work, right?
No. No Pilot Dan, no.
In addition to ripping the muscles from my hands trying to hold onto the armrest as tightly as possible, I was blessed with the conversations of this quasi-elderly couple sitting behind me. It started just about the time Pilot Dan decided to make his U-Turn. They were annihilating each other for the fact that our plane was returning to New York and they might possibly miss the wedding they were supposed to attend on Saturday. I mean, this woman made Mommy Dearest look like June Cleaver. Of course, I tried my best not to eavesdrop - riiight, but it went on and on and at points I was furiously scribbling notes to myself so I could remember to tell you about the funniest parts. Here's a summary:
Him: We'd better call John.
Her: We are NOT calling John! Why would we call him?! We have no idea what's going to happen! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. We are NOT calling John.
Her: Did you take my Rachel Ray? I can't find my Rachel Ray!
Him: No, did you put it up with the coats?
Her: NO! Why would I have put it up with the coats? I couldn't even have put it up there, your coat was too big! I think someone stole it.
Him: That's it! I'm telling the stewardess.
Her: NO you are NOT! You are not telling the stewardess. But someone must have stolen it. I know they did. I must have laid it down and someone took it.
Him: Miss! Miss! Someone stole my wife's magazine.
{Stewardess looks at the guy like, no shit? You think I care? And walks away without saying anything. - I love that girl.}
Her: You better put your seat up!
Him: I'm TRYING, but it won't WORK.
Her: You just have to push the button. What's the matter, can't you push the button. NO, not that one, the other one!
Him: I'm pushing it! It's not working! It's broken!
Her: You can't do anything.
You get the idea. This continued for the return trip to New York and then the entire time we sat there on the runway before taking off again. Mercy was upon me though, and once we took off the second time they pretty much shut up for the rest of the trip.
So we actually managed to arrive safely and I arrived at my parent's house to sit and watch the snow. And watch. And watch. And then we ate, then we watched some more. For the next two days, my activities consisted of eating, peeing, and sitting on the couch watching the 18 inches of snow fall 1 centimeter at a time. Everyone was snowed in so I got to go nowhere and only see 1/2 of the family, even though that still accounted for about 20 people.
One of the highlights was my sister bringing me my Girl Scout Cookies, yessssss, and catching up with my nieces and nephews. I also managed to burrow my way to Kohl's and get a few maternity shirts that are desperately needed, less I start wearing the only tops that still fit me - my scrub tops - with jeans to the bar on Friday night. (You'd better believe I would so do it.)
I also got to see my best friends and talk about the art of farting, and with-holding s.e.x. which is pretty much the reason that they are my best friends. I wonder if I'll ever be able to see my friends whenever I want. I hope so. Except now that my friends live all over the East Coast and Midwest, it might pose a geographical quandary.
But let me backtrack to the actual act of getting home for the weekend: In route to Columbus on Friday morning my lovely pilot, Pilot Dan, decided to turn the plane around, and send us back to New York only to wait on the plane for 40 minutes before he told us he was going to and I quote, "Try this again" end quote. Fantastic. Let's just "try" this whole thing with the flying and the 38,000 feet altitude, and the landing part in a FREAKING BLIZZARD. Yeah, let's just try it. I mean, how bad could it be if it doesn't work, right?
No. No Pilot Dan, no.
In addition to ripping the muscles from my hands trying to hold onto the armrest as tightly as possible, I was blessed with the conversations of this quasi-elderly couple sitting behind me. It started just about the time Pilot Dan decided to make his U-Turn. They were annihilating each other for the fact that our plane was returning to New York and they might possibly miss the wedding they were supposed to attend on Saturday. I mean, this woman made Mommy Dearest look like June Cleaver. Of course, I tried my best not to eavesdrop - riiight, but it went on and on and at points I was furiously scribbling notes to myself so I could remember to tell you about the funniest parts. Here's a summary:
Him: We'd better call John.
Her: We are NOT calling John! Why would we call him?! We have no idea what's going to happen! That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. We are NOT calling John.
Her: Did you take my Rachel Ray? I can't find my Rachel Ray!
Him: No, did you put it up with the coats?
Her: NO! Why would I have put it up with the coats? I couldn't even have put it up there, your coat was too big! I think someone stole it.
Him: That's it! I'm telling the stewardess.
Her: NO you are NOT! You are not telling the stewardess. But someone must have stolen it. I know they did. I must have laid it down and someone took it.
Him: Miss! Miss! Someone stole my wife's magazine.
{Stewardess looks at the guy like, no shit? You think I care? And walks away without saying anything. - I love that girl.}
Her: You better put your seat up!
Him: I'm TRYING, but it won't WORK.
Her: You just have to push the button. What's the matter, can't you push the button. NO, not that one, the other one!
Him: I'm pushing it! It's not working! It's broken!
Her: You can't do anything.
You get the idea. This continued for the return trip to New York and then the entire time we sat there on the runway before taking off again. Mercy was upon me though, and once we took off the second time they pretty much shut up for the rest of the trip.
So we actually managed to arrive safely and I arrived at my parent's house to sit and watch the snow. And watch. And watch. And then we ate, then we watched some more. For the next two days, my activities consisted of eating, peeing, and sitting on the couch watching the 18 inches of snow fall 1 centimeter at a time. Everyone was snowed in so I got to go nowhere and only see 1/2 of the family, even though that still accounted for about 20 people.
One of the highlights was my sister bringing me my Girl Scout Cookies, yessssss, and catching up with my nieces and nephews. I also managed to burrow my way to Kohl's and get a few maternity shirts that are desperately needed, less I start wearing the only tops that still fit me - my scrub tops - with jeans to the bar on Friday night. (You'd better believe I would so do it.)
I also got to see my best friends and talk about the art of farting, and with-holding s.e.x. which is pretty much the reason that they are my best friends. I wonder if I'll ever be able to see my friends whenever I want. I hope so. Except now that my friends live all over the East Coast and Midwest, it might pose a geographical quandary.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Saks Gave Me the Sh***
I did a noble thing for you today, Internet. I decided to rescind my post on diarrhea. Consider yourself spared for the time being.
I also wanted to tell you that me and Crazy Talkative Anti-American French Lady have made up and we now have certain boundaries at work that allow us to live peaceably with each other. Namely, everything she says is fair game for me to instantly disagree with and argue persistently until she throws in the towel or decides to jump out the window herself. Coincidentally, she's been interrupting me far less frequently than she used to. Huh...?
At first I was weary of her new found attraction to me because I'm 99.72%positive it's because now she can talk to me about the baby. And that stinks of Middle School Attempt at Achieving Popularity Through Association to Popularity, which I am totally against, have been my whole life. But in the interest of keeping the peace, I've decided to let her trip all over herself telling me over and over and I'm not kidding over again about her one child and all the things associated with that pregnancy and birth experience. However, never one to pass up an opportunity to trash talk America and make out with French Culture, she shares with me all of the reasons why she's glad she had her son in France and not in bleh-America-bleh.
Soon, I feel I will be tired of keeping the peace. As in like tomorrow soon. Then we will resort to the awkward and stuffy relationship that existed pre-pregnancy announcement in our 2 foot by 2 foot cell (read: office). Ahhh well. Just like my Pappy used to tell me, good things weren't meant to last...*
*Sike, I made that up.
I also wanted to tell you that me and Crazy Talkative Anti-American French Lady have made up and we now have certain boundaries at work that allow us to live peaceably with each other. Namely, everything she says is fair game for me to instantly disagree with and argue persistently until she throws in the towel or decides to jump out the window herself. Coincidentally, she's been interrupting me far less frequently than she used to. Huh...?
At first I was weary of her new found attraction to me because I'm 99.72%positive it's because now she can talk to me about the baby. And that stinks of Middle School Attempt at Achieving Popularity Through Association to Popularity, which I am totally against, have been my whole life. But in the interest of keeping the peace, I've decided to let her trip all over herself telling me over and over and I'm not kidding over again about her one child and all the things associated with that pregnancy and birth experience. However, never one to pass up an opportunity to trash talk America and make out with French Culture, she shares with me all of the reasons why she's glad she had her son in France and not in bleh-America-bleh.
Soon, I feel I will be tired of keeping the peace. As in like tomorrow soon. Then we will resort to the awkward and stuffy relationship that existed pre-pregnancy announcement in our 2 foot by 2 foot cell (read: office). Ahhh well. Just like my Pappy used to tell me, good things weren't meant to last...*
*Sike, I made that up.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Dear Mustard on my Pants,
Did you seriously have to make yourself known today of all days? When I have a meeting with the bossman in 44 minutes? And there are no gd shout wipes in any of my usual hiding spots because I've been giving them away to my clumsy friends who aren't responsible enough to carry their own gd shout wipes? Okay. I was just checking. Because YOUR BROWN MUSTARD SEEDS ARE TAKING UP THE ENTIRETY OF MY RIGHT LEG AT THE MOMENT. I just thought you might reconsider is all. Go find some 2nd grade bully who picks on all the kids with glasses. He's much more in need of your services than I am currently.
Take care,
Your Unappreciative Donor Pant Leg
Take care,
Your Unappreciative Donor Pant Leg
Monday, March 3, 2008
Quote Board: 1st Edition
* Fish are confusing.
* It was pretty much exactly what I pictured when I pictured the most uncomfortable situation I'd never want to be in.
* I think this is my new favorite beer. Breakfast beer, I mean.
* Look, we're 27 and already forgetting things. Who knows what we've already forgot?
* So then we decided, wait, let's get smoothies and take them into the steam room.
*All of my baby showers are cocktail parties. I'd say that's fitting.
* It was pretty much exactly what I pictured when I pictured the most uncomfortable situation I'd never want to be in.
* I think this is my new favorite beer. Breakfast beer, I mean.
* Look, we're 27 and already forgetting things. Who knows what we've already forgot?
* So then we decided, wait, let's get smoothies and take them into the steam room.
*All of my baby showers are cocktail parties. I'd say that's fitting.
"Tipper" is a 50/50
Everyone keeps asking me what names we've picked out for the little fetus within. But I hear all these other people telling me not to tell anyone what names we've picked out because, and though they may deny it - they totally would, people will give us their opinions and that is just not acceptable. I do not take opinions. I am a fastidious opinion ignorer. It's kind of like "my thing". (See: Moving to New York or Getting Fired from my Job for calling off too much).
However, to appease the masses and shut you all up, I will now list and thereby narrow down the choices of what we are considering, the names we will not choose:
Ahem:
Matilda, Carrie, Brenda, Gertrude, Theodora, Ingrid, Jyväskylä, and Penelope.
Richard, Richard, Richard, Richard, and Richard. And Robert.
Anyone with suggestions may leave them here, and no, I will not name my kid after you.
Anywho - I'm midway through my third or fourth cold of this winter, deeelicious. My tonsils are the color and size of those bitter red apples. The common greeting I have been receiving at work is, "Hi! You sound terrible!" Thank you and have a stupertastic day, I feel amazing. The last one lasted about 11 days so I'm figuring about 6 more days to this one. I'm through two boxes of Aloe kleenex and three Shower Soothers. The Sudafed plug-it-in is a waste-of-money. I had such high hopes for it too. Sad. Well, I guess that just adds proof to the pudding (a. Is that what I mean? b. What does that mean?) that if it sounds too good to be true, it's too expensive to afford.
I'm going home on Friday to Columbus - holy in the name of the lord it's way overdue. After about a month or 6 weeks of being in this freakshow, er, city, I come down with this intense homesickness similar to the Bubonic Plague or the Clap. And boy, does my crotch ever itch right now. It's time to see how normal life can be and be comfortably separated from strangers by at least 3-4 feet at all times. I really miss grocery shopping with a big cart and a car to load the bags into so the plastic doesn't rip the flesh from my palms as I waddle the 14 blocks home from our closest market. Ahhhhhh. Serenity now.
In other random news Monday, I have made little to no progress on the knitting of my $55 scarf, so I'm hoping to do some of that while traveling by plane, train, and automobile this weekend. Also, it will be the first time Laugh More goes mobile with my new laptop - look how sneaky and technical I am. Though posting will probably be uninevitable due to the plethora of people and children and food I will be accosted with upon landing at Port Columbus International Airport. Which is absofreakinglutely fine with me.
Enjoy your week and fill it with details.
However, to appease the masses and shut you all up, I will now list and thereby narrow down the choices of what we are considering, the names we will not choose:
Ahem:
Matilda, Carrie, Brenda, Gertrude, Theodora, Ingrid, Jyväskylä, and Penelope.
Richard, Richard, Richard, Richard, and Richard. And Robert.
Anyone with suggestions may leave them here, and no, I will not name my kid after you.
Anywho - I'm midway through my third or fourth cold of this winter, deeelicious. My tonsils are the color and size of those bitter red apples. The common greeting I have been receiving at work is, "Hi! You sound terrible!" Thank you and have a stupertastic day, I feel amazing. The last one lasted about 11 days so I'm figuring about 6 more days to this one. I'm through two boxes of Aloe kleenex and three Shower Soothers. The Sudafed plug-it-in is a waste-of-money. I had such high hopes for it too. Sad. Well, I guess that just adds proof to the pudding (a. Is that what I mean? b. What does that mean?) that if it sounds too good to be true, it's too expensive to afford.
I'm going home on Friday to Columbus - holy in the name of the lord it's way overdue. After about a month or 6 weeks of being in this freakshow, er, city, I come down with this intense homesickness similar to the Bubonic Plague or the Clap. And boy, does my crotch ever itch right now. It's time to see how normal life can be and be comfortably separated from strangers by at least 3-4 feet at all times. I really miss grocery shopping with a big cart and a car to load the bags into so the plastic doesn't rip the flesh from my palms as I waddle the 14 blocks home from our closest market. Ahhhhhh. Serenity now.
In other random news Monday, I have made little to no progress on the knitting of my $55 scarf, so I'm hoping to do some of that while traveling by plane, train, and automobile this weekend. Also, it will be the first time Laugh More goes mobile with my new laptop - look how sneaky and technical I am. Though posting will probably be uninevitable due to the plethora of people and children and food I will be accosted with upon landing at Port Columbus International Airport. Which is absofreakinglutely fine with me.
Enjoy your week and fill it with details.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)