Today it was 78 degrees in Austin. I only bring this up, not to rub in how awesome Austin can be in January, but to relay an embarrassing typo goof of my boss'. Tomorrow an arctic front will arrive in town, thus freezing all our smug asses, and part of my boss' job is to relay weather information to certain people. Since most folks, especially those paid upward of seven figures, have trouble actually reading an email, she tends to summarize them. Today she told some pretty important people that there is a chance of snot later in the week. Poor thing will probably never be able to talk about the weather again without having to bear through tissue jokes. We all agreed if it does snot on Friday, we are most definitely not going in to work.
I have so much of my own snot that I don't really need it to rain down from above. Saturday night at C&L's (Settlers of Catan--this time The Boy owned us), I sat there wrapped in a blanket playing a game called Sneeze, Blow, Toss, Grumble. I am a champion nose blower and know how to really make a tissue last. Can I list that under my KSA's on my resume? I could even prove that I don't bullshit on my resume, and really knock an interview out of the park with my mad nose-blowing skillz.
It's probably good that the weather is dropping in to the teens over the next 24 hours--it'll prepare me for Boston, where I will be spending a few days with Ivy Vyne and friends. Obviously the only way to get through it all is to be wicked drunk, and I mean to start as soon as the cold front hits tomorrow. Don't tell my boss. It is probably best to get through February soused. Then I can't be held responsible for all that crying I find myself doing. I can at least blame the alcohol. Yesterday I cried over not having trash bags and litter. Today I cried because I missed the Orange Lover. So it goes.
Side note: On last week's Skins, why the hell do the lesbians spend all that time throwing their heads back, showing off their necks, and giggling during sex? From my experience, girls spend more time you know, having sex, and not so much rolling around and laughing. Maybe I only know the serious type. The kind who are too busy pleasing each other with their mouths and such. MTV obviously knows more than I do, so I'll just keep watching to see what *real* teenagers are like.
I have so much of my own snot that I don't really need it to rain down from above. Saturday night at C&L's (Settlers of Catan--this time The Boy owned us), I sat there wrapped in a blanket playing a game called Sneeze, Blow, Toss, Grumble. I am a champion nose blower and know how to really make a tissue last. Can I list that under my KSA's on my resume? I could even prove that I don't bullshit on my resume, and really knock an interview out of the park with my mad nose-blowing skillz.
It's probably good that the weather is dropping in to the teens over the next 24 hours--it'll prepare me for Boston, where I will be spending a few days with Ivy Vyne and friends. Obviously the only way to get through it all is to be wicked drunk, and I mean to start as soon as the cold front hits tomorrow. Don't tell my boss. It is probably best to get through February soused. Then I can't be held responsible for all that crying I find myself doing. I can at least blame the alcohol. Yesterday I cried over not having trash bags and litter. Today I cried because I missed the Orange Lover. So it goes.
Side note: On last week's Skins, why the hell do the lesbians spend all that time throwing their heads back, showing off their necks, and giggling during sex? From my experience, girls spend more time you know, having sex, and not so much rolling around and laughing. Maybe I only know the serious type. The kind who are too busy pleasing each other with their mouths and such. MTV obviously knows more than I do, so I'll just keep watching to see what *real* teenagers are like.
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