And just like that, it was February!
Ok, first let's get the Public Service Announcement stuff out of the way.
Unless you live in Iowa, Wyoming(? I think that's the big western square state that had an early primary), New Hampshire, South Carolina or Florida or a handful of other states, Tuesday is an extremely important day.
That's right, Tuesday is Super Tuesday, and your state is probably holding its primary elections that day.
If you are not a tool and have already registered to vote, you had best be getting your ass to the polls on Tuesday and voting. Note that I haven't said who to vote for. That's because it doesn't matter who you vote for - it just matters that you vote.
If you are one of the tools who did not register, or did not register soon enough to vote on Tuesday, all is not lost. Just make sure you're registered and ready to go in November.
I mean it.
BTDubs, if you're sick of people telling you to get off your lazy slacker ass and vote, I have two bits of advice for you:
1. Move to Sasketchewan or the Northwest Territories or the South Pole or somewhere remote, because that is the only way you will avoid such discussions.
2. Don't read my blog till after November, because I have made it my mission to constantly remind you all (all 5 of you...I honestly don't know who the hell reads this anymore) that it is your right and duty as an American to get out there and vote and let people know that the younger people of this country care about more than Guitar Hero, lolcats, and American Idol.
This concludes today's Public Service Announcement.
Exciting family news - I have a new baby cousin!!! Born on Tuesday, and cute in that way that only newborn babies can be. So now I have 9 cousins. Meaning my grandparents have 11 grandchildren ranging in age from 25 all the way to 3 days old. Isn't that insane?
Moving on...
My sister threw me a surprise birthday party 2 weeks ago. I had absolutely no clue that it was going to happen...everyone who was in on it totally kept the secret. My sister is such a genius...she even managed to invite everyone from my office without me knowing. She actually lucked out the day of the party - I spent the entire day out of the apartment, running around Fort Lauderdale, trying to find the perfect outfit for dinner at P.F. Chang's and hitting the downtown bars afterwards. Anyway, after the apartment surprise, we headed downtown. And downtown was totally dead. Sadness. But was the party over? Hell no! Instead we hopped in a cab and went to Hard Rock. 25 minutes and $40 dollars later, we hit a club, paid $20 cover (which irritated me, but it was after midnight at that point, and I was already drunk), and I partied my ass off. Apparently there was a lot of fist pounding, rock star hand gesturing, and random outbursts of, "Whooooooooooo!!!! It's my birthday!" going on. But that's what happens when you start the night with 2 drinks at dinner and continue with Jack Daniels and ginger ale all night long.
Uh oh, you say. She was hittin' the Jack Daniels? This cannot end well...
Eventually my sister managed to drag me out of the club, forced me to eat some pizza, and got us into a cab home. It was the longest cab ride ever because I could not fall asleep. I got the spins whenever I closed my eyes. Managed to get in the apartment and into pajamas before throwing up once and falling asleep.
I learned a valuable lesson the next day.
Do. Not. Fuck. Around. With. Jack.
My entire life hurt that Sunday. I spent the entire day on the couch, lamenting my existence because every inch of me hurt.
But I'll tell ya one thing: it was one of the best damn birthdays I ever had.
So why did I feel it was necessary to detail that entire night? I'm getting to it...I promise.
Last weekend was my sister's birthday. We went downtown on Friday night (when stuff is poppin off everywhere so there's lots to see and do), and had a great time. Saturday night involved dinner at a fondue restaurant (awesome...) and stopping by a keg party that eventually turned into a bunch of guys standing around and talking about Ivy League schools and luxury cars. Yawn. But there was a fair amount of drinking involved, including a shot of homemade limoncello.
Ok, so I spent 2 weekends drinking more than I usually do. Now I'm being punished.
I have a sinus infection. And pink eye.
Yay.
So now I get to be on antibiotics and eye drops for the next week. And I have to get new glasses tomorrow because I had to throw away my last pair of contact lenses...and I can't drive with the glasses I currently have. I've had this current pair since, like, 2001 or something wretched like that. Anyway, imagine how much fun it's going to be trying to convince the people at LensCrafters to give me an eye exam even though I have pink eye. (I won't be contagious at that point because I'm on the eye drops)
Anyway, that's what I get for trying to party like I did when I was in college.
And I had a dream, there were ants in my ramen, ants in my ramen...
Apologies to Carly Simon. Bonus points to anyone who actually got that not-so-obscure 70's soft rock throwback.
But there really were ants in my ramen the other day...they managed to get into a factory sealed package of ramen and I didn't realize it until I saw them floating in the pot. Yummmmm...
And since you all think I'm crazy, I'm going to go one step further and talk about someone who really is crazy.
Yes, I'm talking about my girl Britney Spears.
(For those of you who haven't been following along, Britney tends to come up as a topic of conversation somewhat regularly, as can be seen here, here, and here. Reading those links will give any newcomers insight as to why I feel like I have to talk about Britney too.)
So according to the latest reports, Britney was taken to the hospital on Thursday amidst a ginormous motorcade because the paparazzi are scumbags and wouldn't have allowed her to get there in one piece without a heavy police presence. I digress. So she's under mental evaluation, and - this just in - her father has been given temporary conservatorship of her estate while things continue to play out.
Whoa.
You know, we don't hear a lot about Britney's dad. I wonder what kind of a role he has played in all of this. Maybe he's someone who Britney can still trust...someone she might listen to.
At the risk of sounding vapid and unable to look at the bigger picture of the world (in which case I would point someone to the beginning of this blog - see, I do know that there's more important shit going on!), I really feel for Britney. She's losing it. Correction: She lost it a long time ago. But no one will help her, and no one will leave her alone.
Shit, I was telling everyone that we needed to leave Britney alone a full 7 months before that Chris Crocker kid showed up.
But seriously...I don't know why I feel so strongly about the whole thing, but I sincerely hope that someone steps in and puts an end to all of this before Britney kills herself. 'Cause that's what's going to happen if someone doesn't fix it.
And to Dr. Phil, if you're listening, fuck you. You and your bald head and stupid mustache and half-retarded country-isms never gave a shit about Britney Spears until you realized that you might be able to get your name in the papers by claiming to have visited her and wanting to help. You're not even a licensed doctor. Go away. You too, Sam Lufti. Stop trying to be her "friend" and take her money.
Some people are saying that she's just doing all this to get attention. Why would anyone want to be famous for the kind of stuff that she's done in the past year or so? She's seriously ill...she needs help. Who is going to help her?
Britney, go somewhere and get help. Real help. Go far far away where no one can find you except the best psychiatric team that money can buy, and get well. Then get plastic surgery, change your name, and go live the life you really wanted to live before you became the biggest pop star since Michael Jackson. Sure, we'll miss you for a while...people will search. And then we will forget. And you'll be free.
So, um yeah....Britney needs help.
I had an emo moment today while chatting on AIM with my sister. I told her that all I wanted to do at that moment was leave the office so I could to buy a Happy Meal and sit in my car and eat it and cry because I was so miserable.
Geez, that really is emo. Me sobbing while munching on a french fry in my beat up Corolla.
Ok, I've blabbed on enough. Don't forget to vote on Tuesday!!!
Unless you live in Iowa, Wyoming(? I think that's the big western square state that had an early primary), New Hampshire, South Carolina or Florida or a handful of other states, Tuesday is an extremely important day.
That's right, Tuesday is Super Tuesday, and your state is probably holding its primary elections that day.
If you are not a tool and have already registered to vote, you had best be getting your ass to the polls on Tuesday and voting. Note that I haven't said who to vote for. That's because it doesn't matter who you vote for - it just matters that you vote.
If you are one of the tools who did not register, or did not register soon enough to vote on Tuesday, all is not lost. Just make sure you're registered and ready to go in November.
I mean it.
BTDubs, if you're sick of people telling you to get off your lazy slacker ass and vote, I have two bits of advice for you:
1. Move to Sasketchewan or the Northwest Territories or the South Pole or somewhere remote, because that is the only way you will avoid such discussions.
2. Don't read my blog till after November, because I have made it my mission to constantly remind you all (all 5 of you...I honestly don't know who the hell reads this anymore) that it is your right and duty as an American to get out there and vote and let people know that the younger people of this country care about more than Guitar Hero, lolcats, and American Idol.
This concludes today's Public Service Announcement.
Exciting family news - I have a new baby cousin!!! Born on Tuesday, and cute in that way that only newborn babies can be. So now I have 9 cousins. Meaning my grandparents have 11 grandchildren ranging in age from 25 all the way to 3 days old. Isn't that insane?
Moving on...
My sister threw me a surprise birthday party 2 weeks ago. I had absolutely no clue that it was going to happen...everyone who was in on it totally kept the secret. My sister is such a genius...she even managed to invite everyone from my office without me knowing. She actually lucked out the day of the party - I spent the entire day out of the apartment, running around Fort Lauderdale, trying to find the perfect outfit for dinner at P.F. Chang's and hitting the downtown bars afterwards. Anyway, after the apartment surprise, we headed downtown. And downtown was totally dead. Sadness. But was the party over? Hell no! Instead we hopped in a cab and went to Hard Rock. 25 minutes and $40 dollars later, we hit a club, paid $20 cover (which irritated me, but it was after midnight at that point, and I was already drunk), and I partied my ass off. Apparently there was a lot of fist pounding, rock star hand gesturing, and random outbursts of, "Whooooooooooo!!!! It's my birthday!" going on. But that's what happens when you start the night with 2 drinks at dinner and continue with Jack Daniels and ginger ale all night long.
Uh oh, you say. She was hittin' the Jack Daniels? This cannot end well...
Eventually my sister managed to drag me out of the club, forced me to eat some pizza, and got us into a cab home. It was the longest cab ride ever because I could not fall asleep. I got the spins whenever I closed my eyes. Managed to get in the apartment and into pajamas before throwing up once and falling asleep.
I learned a valuable lesson the next day.
Do. Not. Fuck. Around. With. Jack.
My entire life hurt that Sunday. I spent the entire day on the couch, lamenting my existence because every inch of me hurt.
But I'll tell ya one thing: it was one of the best damn birthdays I ever had.
So why did I feel it was necessary to detail that entire night? I'm getting to it...I promise.
Last weekend was my sister's birthday. We went downtown on Friday night (when stuff is poppin off everywhere so there's lots to see and do), and had a great time. Saturday night involved dinner at a fondue restaurant (awesome...) and stopping by a keg party that eventually turned into a bunch of guys standing around and talking about Ivy League schools and luxury cars. Yawn. But there was a fair amount of drinking involved, including a shot of homemade limoncello.
Ok, so I spent 2 weekends drinking more than I usually do. Now I'm being punished.
I have a sinus infection. And pink eye.
Yay.
So now I get to be on antibiotics and eye drops for the next week. And I have to get new glasses tomorrow because I had to throw away my last pair of contact lenses...and I can't drive with the glasses I currently have. I've had this current pair since, like, 2001 or something wretched like that. Anyway, imagine how much fun it's going to be trying to convince the people at LensCrafters to give me an eye exam even though I have pink eye. (I won't be contagious at that point because I'm on the eye drops)
Anyway, that's what I get for trying to party like I did when I was in college.
And I had a dream, there were ants in my ramen, ants in my ramen...
Apologies to Carly Simon. Bonus points to anyone who actually got that not-so-obscure 70's soft rock throwback.
But there really were ants in my ramen the other day...they managed to get into a factory sealed package of ramen and I didn't realize it until I saw them floating in the pot. Yummmmm...
And since you all think I'm crazy, I'm going to go one step further and talk about someone who really is crazy.
Yes, I'm talking about my girl Britney Spears.
(For those of you who haven't been following along, Britney tends to come up as a topic of conversation somewhat regularly, as can be seen here, here, and here. Reading those links will give any newcomers insight as to why I feel like I have to talk about Britney too.)
So according to the latest reports, Britney was taken to the hospital on Thursday amidst a ginormous motorcade because the paparazzi are scumbags and wouldn't have allowed her to get there in one piece without a heavy police presence. I digress. So she's under mental evaluation, and - this just in - her father has been given temporary conservatorship of her estate while things continue to play out.
Whoa.
You know, we don't hear a lot about Britney's dad. I wonder what kind of a role he has played in all of this. Maybe he's someone who Britney can still trust...someone she might listen to.
At the risk of sounding vapid and unable to look at the bigger picture of the world (in which case I would point someone to the beginning of this blog - see, I do know that there's more important shit going on!), I really feel for Britney. She's losing it. Correction: She lost it a long time ago. But no one will help her, and no one will leave her alone.
Shit, I was telling everyone that we needed to leave Britney alone a full 7 months before that Chris Crocker kid showed up.
But seriously...I don't know why I feel so strongly about the whole thing, but I sincerely hope that someone steps in and puts an end to all of this before Britney kills herself. 'Cause that's what's going to happen if someone doesn't fix it.
And to Dr. Phil, if you're listening, fuck you. You and your bald head and stupid mustache and half-retarded country-isms never gave a shit about Britney Spears until you realized that you might be able to get your name in the papers by claiming to have visited her and wanting to help. You're not even a licensed doctor. Go away. You too, Sam Lufti. Stop trying to be her "friend" and take her money.
Some people are saying that she's just doing all this to get attention. Why would anyone want to be famous for the kind of stuff that she's done in the past year or so? She's seriously ill...she needs help. Who is going to help her?
Britney, go somewhere and get help. Real help. Go far far away where no one can find you except the best psychiatric team that money can buy, and get well. Then get plastic surgery, change your name, and go live the life you really wanted to live before you became the biggest pop star since Michael Jackson. Sure, we'll miss you for a while...people will search. And then we will forget. And you'll be free.
So, um yeah....Britney needs help.
I had an emo moment today while chatting on AIM with my sister. I told her that all I wanted to do at that moment was leave the office so I could to buy a Happy Meal and sit in my car and eat it and cry because I was so miserable.
Geez, that really is emo. Me sobbing while munching on a french fry in my beat up Corolla.
Ok, I've blabbed on enough. Don't forget to vote on Tuesday!!!
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