Did you do anything fun this weekend? Get arrested? Have to apologize to the neighbors again? Wake up in your underwear next to a bearded woman in the back seat of your car in the parking lot of an Applebees?
Nope- me neither.
My astoundingly pedestrian weekend, in bullet points for your reading comfort:
- Started phase 1 of Operation Fix this Fucking House, which involved two trips to IKEA, the purchase of a closet system/armoire thingy (named something like Farvenugartenmorg which is roughly the size of a 50's Cadillac), the partial assembly of said Cadillac, and the realization that we can't finish assembling the Cadillac until I paint the Foyer, so now we are living in a sea of Cadillac parts.
- Got drunk and blogged.
- The Mr. and I realized at approximately the same moment (when I was punching my liver and saying "shut up you!") that we reference the Simpsons approximately 5-8 times a day, and we always do it at the same time and giggle like lobotomy patients. We are dorks.
- Decided that the Lambada (a.k.a "The Forbidden dance") needs a comeback. Working on this one.
- Didn't run in Grandma's Marathon (or the half, like this brave soul). Didn't even consider running in Grandma's Marathon. Remembered that I don't run unless it involves bacon, vodka, or missing cats.
- Realized that I was turning into that person when I sat and stared at four nearly identical green-gray paint chips for 10 minutes, noting the subtle differences between them and how this one is a tich more gray, yet this one is a scooch more green...I then punched myself in the face so you wouldn't have to.
- Started counting down the days until next week, when I am thankfully done teaching my class and my summer of leisure begins. Don't get too jealous- fate has once again decided to kick me squarely in the place where my balls would be if I were a man and actually had the jinglies. Yes folks- I, Whiskeymarie VonPartypants will be doing my civic duty and performing (I'm training with Bela Karolyi as we speak) JURY DUTY. And don't tell me to "just get out of it", o.k? I already did that once, and that's why I got roped into doing it now. Used to be, you just told them you were a commie and got out of it, then you were off the hook until the next time your name came up in the lottery. Not so much now. Now, if you want to be excused you have to list "alternate dates" that you would be available. And, go figure, they want me there on the "alternate dates" I listed. Bastards.
- Also: Ate sushi, had a lemon drop martini, wrangled cats, ate cheese, shopped online, smelled my finger, cut my bangs too short, sweat a lot, made rhubarb cake, had a fat-free frozen yogurt cone at IKEA, watched the beginning of Battlestar Galactica season 4, cemented my place in the nerd hall of fame, ate prunes, talked to myself a lot, sang songs about cats, washed dishes and forgot to shave my legs.