Thursday, September 20, 2007

direct quote from son of boss: you have a look that makes people want to give up on life.

okay y'all. i'm not dead. yet. eventually we all be, but as of this particular juncture in time, i am still breathing. my sinuses would like otherwise, but i've smothered the bastards with a liberal dose of dayquil, so fuck you ragweed, and take that, grass pollen, and up yours, scillia and mucus and all that other immune system crap! i've beaten your game of making me feel like death warmed up slightly. though according to the box, this will only last four hours. dammit.


anyway, i am alive. not kicking, mainly because i have godawful balance and also, i can't kick in my work clothes. it'd look ridiculous. but i am alive, and just reassuring you, my gentle readers (all between one and three of you) that more verbal blogger spew *will* be clogging your blog list soon enough. i've just been busy with a new job (i work at a law firm now. i know. but please, save your judgements until you've heard hilarious tales of bad names, chair-spinning games, and the fact that i'm getting paid double-digit dollars an hour. it's exciting.) that keeps me occupied 8-5 during the week and occasionally on saturdays. of course, this is not all that has been transpiring. other things have kept me from wasting my words in the blogbox, and these include but are not limited to:

*a buffy entire-series dvd marathon
*i'm still working at That Store for Fat Chicks on weekends, god help me
*holding friends' crap for ransom in cahoots with other friends, and making ransom notes for said crap out of trashy tabloid magazines bc if you're gonna hold something for ransom, over the top is the only way to go
*laziness
*aforementioned sinus trubs
*intense depression over the fact that i am now saying things like 'trubs'...and 'obnox', 'whatev', and 'oh em gee'.
*random friends stopping by on their way through this state because really, the only thing you can do is visit the sonoran desert, not live there
*coincidentally, go to google and type 'reasons why you can't live in the desert' and see who pops up on top. obviously my work here is done. or should i say, obvi.
*men. feh.
*women. bah.
*OMG NEW FALL TV SEASON
*have you ever let laundry go for, like, five or six weeks and then realized, holy schneikes, i'd better wash that if i want to not go naked to work tomorrow, because for real, they frown if you don't wear hose, let alone clothes, so i guess i should go buy some fabric softener, and what should take a day takes a week and you've still got piles of unfolded laundry and the clean sheets you washed are in a crumpled heap on the floor bc you're too lazy to put them on your bed and also bc there was a red sox game on and who can be bothered with domestic choreyness when they're playing the yanks and totally winning and then they fucking lose and you cry and pitch a fit and drink to make it hurt less but then realize they're still hopefully gonna clinch the eastern division and you would totally wear your blue and red jersey sox shirt if it weren't at the bottom of that tangly cotton abyss that is the pile of unfolded laundry? i have.
*the skins are playing and actually winning games! obviously this phenomenon must be watched. hilariously obnox sidenote, i used to live in the neighborhood next to joe gibbs back in the day when he was the coach and the skins actually won superbowls and shit. he gave out good halloween candy.
*vegoose preparations are upon us. or me. and the friends i'm going with, anyway. you're all super wickedly jealous. i mean it.
*stuff and things.
*possibly other crap.

and that is the long and the short of it. make no mistake, i have been coming up with lists in my head and jotting bits down, and hopefully i'll get around to writing one in full this weekend if i can work it in around doc holliday stalking in tombstone with a friend who totally hearts this one guy who plays him (bc he seriously is cute, y'all) and working dastardly retail on sunday, but until then? i leave you with this:


cranberry juice + southern comfort + a squeeze of lime = love.