Firstlies, take this quiz. I missed the first question (DAMMIT) but got the rest right. Thank you, Kat, for sharing this quiz and ALSO for telling me to wear red today for good luck. So far, so good. My red shoes are squeaky, though. What's that about? We have to wear these work badges around our necks on lanyards (much like the freshman leashes we wore our keys on in college . . . what?) and I also have this token on mine that bangs into my badge every time I take a step. So when I walk it's like, "smack smack smack" unless I hold onto my badge so the badge and token stop banging each other FOR FIVE SECONDS OH MY GOD. Anyway, today I'm squeaking when I walk and my badge and token are banging and it's all very loud. My point is, I can't sneak up on anyone at work, which is unfortunate. I'm very good at sneaking. And then jumping out! And scaring! Ask Joe. This one time I think I almost made him pee his pants a little because I jumped out from the dark and went "AHHHHH!" It was like that time Derek Zoolander went into the coal mine. You know? YOU know.
Now it is time to completely change subjects. Heidi's family had a memorial service for her grandpa yesterday, and I spent the majority of it pinching myself to take my mind off of crying. Someone once told me that if you're about to cry and you pinch the fleshy part of your hand between your thumb and forefinger, it will make you stop. I don't really know if it works but I kept doing it yesterday. Of course, then I wanted to cry because I was pinching myself, but whatever. Give Heidi all your hugs! Now!
Good news, everyone! Tam's grandpa is on the mend. That doesn't mean you can stop thinking good thoughts. Oh no. Think MORE good thoughts. They're working.
Also, happy birthday to three-hole-punch Steve. Congratulations, my friend. Today you are a man. (I don't know)
I feel like I did a lot this weekend. I think because both Friday and Saturday nights I was out PAST TWO IN THE A.M. Amazing, yes? It's like I remembered I'm not 80 and also that bars stay open that late. Even more amazing is that I was not drunk at ANY of these bars and I didn't fall down at all. That is both amazing and unprecedented. We saw some bands Friday night (and met Sad Captain) and on Saturday, while we were waiting for Heidi and her coworkers to finish their bowling tournament (you heard me), we sat in a dark corner of a busy bar, drinking Miller Lites, listening to a not-terrible rock band, eating cheese con queso, watching two men and a woman play grabass with each other in front of the dartboard, and trying to figure out how to turn on the flash on my camera phone. That last one was an EPIC FAIL but the rest worked out quite nicely. Last night, my parents fed me dinner and my mom gave me a billion pieces of kitchenware. I spent a great deal of last night reorganizing the kitchen to make room for the new dishes. This means I now have a lot of stuff to either put in storage or give to Goodwill. I'm leaning toward giving it all to Goodwill. Except for the fish plate. Lampl would kill me if I got rid of the fish plate. Do you like how I'm being all enigmatic about the fish plate? No? OK.
In other news, this week on The Collective, we're supposed to write about embarrassment and failure. I'm having a hard time narrowing down which embarrassing story to tell. Sigh.
This is more random than usual. I'm sorry. Wait. No. I'm not sorry at all.
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5 comments:
wait, isn't cheese con queso just cheese with cheese? THAT SOUNDS AWESOME.
It is. We really had cheese with sausage in it, but I call any kind of melted cheese "cheese con queso" on account of once one of my friends said that while we were drunk and it was the FUNNIEST. THING. EVER.
Only 60%. I've shamed myself. I really thought I knew Ralph better than that.
I only got 10/15 right, which made me want to cry. I can't get by on my Wiggum impersonation alone.
And did you know that chips with queso and margaritas would be my last meal if I were on death row? True story. That I just decided now.
I try that pinching technique all the time but I don't think it works. I just cry AND have little crescent-shaped marks in my hands. But good thoughts are in effect.
I was going to take the quiz and then I realized it was about The Simpsons. So rather than risk the embarrassment of a 0% I decided not to take it.
Did you know Mental Floss is a really cool magazine written by a couple of guys from Duke who are about J's age? True Story for serious.
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