January 29, 2012
This Is Not Helpful
So, on Wednesday morning, I got into work to find the following emails in my in box. (I leave at 4:00 every day, so there's quite a bit of business that goes on while I'm not at work.)
This from the head of I.T.
From: Joe
Sent: Tuesday, January 24, 2012 4:26 PM
To: All of Wenchie's Work
Subject: Technology Implementation TeamDear Colleagues,
To best prioritize Information Technology (IT) initiatives and meet the objectives of the Wenchie's Work Organizational Plan, a team has been created and charged to align the two areas together. The Technology Implementation Team will promote collaboration between IT, Wenchie's Work (WW) departments and affiliated companies to ensure efficiency and effectiveness in future projects. This team has the authority from the Executive Committee to share ownership in decision making related to project selection, prioritization and approval.
Starting in 2012, any initiatives requesting IT resources will begin with a new process, including the completion of a project request form; to determine needs, organization impact and level of effort. The Technology Implementation Team will review proposals and make project selection, prioritization and approval based on the evaluation of project goals, risks, budget and staff resources.
This team is comprised of members representing each department and affiliated company. Others will be invited to attend as topics require. IT and Department M will be represented by multiple individuals to ensure all aspects of the project are being appropriately considered.
[List of team members, about a dozen total.]
To submit a new project request, please talk with your department representative.
Thank you.
Joe
And this from random guy in the field:
From: Steve
Sent: Tuesday, January 24, 2012 11:26 PM
To: Joe; All of Wenchie's Work
Subject: Technology Implementation TeamOnly 1 from Department C.......what about someone from the field, outside of Chicago????
English please????? This is institutional jibberish....and is incomprehensible to those not in IT.....
Peace,
SteveRev. Steve Q. Stephens
Director for Whatever
Northern U.S. State Area, Wenchie's Work
555.555.6865 (office)
555.555.9996 (cell)
rev_vatican@email.com
WOW. Let's break this down, shall we? There's just so much going on here, I'm going to have to take it in order:
To: Joe; All of Wenchie's Work
Yeah, dude replied to all 300 people in our organization, 250 in my building, 50 deployed around the country. They all got a taste of Steve's ire with their morning coffee. Way to out yourself as a dickhead to the entire company, Steve!
Department C.......what about
He lost my respect the minute he touched the period key more than once. I have no tolerance for excessive, superfluous ellipsis.
what about someone from the field, outside of Chicago????
Hey, remember that pesky recession, when we laid off 80 people? Yeah, we're trying not to have to fly people across the country to attend meetings. Also? We have plenty of qualified people in the building.
Chicago???? English please?????
He punctuates like a fifteen year old texting mom about why his/her curfew is so early.
This is institutional jibberish....and is incomprehensible to those not in IT.....
I understood it, and I'm not in I.T. I'm just sayin'.
Peace, Steve
I think this is my favorite part. He's obviously irate on several levels, but hey. Peace, man. He says it all with peace in his heart.
rev_vatican@email.com
Um... what? We're not the Vatican. I don't even know where he's coming from on that one.
[Hey, did I ever tell you guys about the time, at work, when I answered a call from Thee Actual Vatican Where The Pope Lives? Swear to God, it was Father Brian McSomething, some Cardinal's secretary. I was like, "Get out, you're calling from the Vatican?!" Real smooth.]
Okay, then there was this one from HR:
From: Carrie
Sent: Tuesday, January 24, 2012 9:55 AM
To: All of Wenchie's Work
Subject: 2011 W2 Info
Importance: High
ATTENTION ALL EMPLOYEES
The W2s have been loaded into the system.
You are able now to access your information if you log into Payroll Software, under Myself/Pay/W2/2011.
Please communicate any discrepancies.
Your Payroll Team
Short and sweet. Took me twenty seconds to pull up my W2 and print it off. Aw, but our little buddy had a slightly different experience.
From: Steve
Sent: Tuesday, January 24, 2012 11:28 PM
To: Carrie; All of Wenchie's Work
Subject: 2011 W2 InfoThis is not helpful.....
Peace,
SteveRev. Steve Q. Stephens
Director for Whatever
Northern U.S. State Area, Wenchie's Work
555.555.6865 (office)
555.555.9996 (cell)
rev_vatican@email.com
I'm gonna go out on a limb here and suggest that, if Steve doesn't know the difference between Reply and Reply All, perhaps the fault does not lie with I.T. and HR...?
[And I don't know why I'm inconsistent with the periods in I.T. and HR. That's just how it's done. Don't question me. At least I know how to use ellipsis.]
But despite my dissection of Steve's emails, I must give him props for possibly the hugest accomplishment ever accomplished in the history of accomplishmentalism.
For the past six months, I.T. has been trying to ween our company off GroupWise and onto Outlook. And HR, well, they've introduced a whole new payroll software package. Now, if you've ever worked for anyone, ever, or touched any piece of technology anywhere, ever, you may have a teensy particle of an idea of how much fury and cursing-of-the-heavens these roll-outs have inspired from my co-workers.
And Steve. Oh, dear, peaceful, uncomprehending Steve. With his bitter, public sniping, he has managed the unthinkable -- he made the entire organization feel collective sympathy for their arch-nemeses, I.T. and HR.
Well played, Steve. Well played.
Posted at 06:54 AM | Comments (0)January 26, 2012
Save the Date
Wow. My year just got even busier and more expensive. And also I'm adding another First for me: going to the wedding of someone I don't know. We just got an overly-designed (THREE photos!) save-the-date magnet from one of Husband's co-worker's off-spring, i.e.
Such-and-such date 2010
John and Mary have their first date doing something completely predictible.Such-and-such date 2011
John proposes to Mary at restaurant I've never heard of.Such-and-such date 2012
John and Mary get married with you in attendance!
I don't know who this person is. Husband doesn't even ever mention the co-worker in funny work-related anecdotes, and by this, I can only assume that said co-worker is boring, and so is his off-spring, and so will be the wedding. Which is a huge leap but, hey -- I don't have a lot to go on here, so unfair assumptions are the only option.
The only option.
I've never been to the wedding of a person I've never met, paid for by parents I've never met. I can't help but go into this with a total eyeroll attitude. I mean, it's obvious an obligatory invitation. Like, Well, we're inviting A, B and C from the office, so I guess we'll have to invite D and E. And Husband and I are totally F.
Are we really expected to attend? Can I just pick something nice to send them from the registry, or do I have to go sit at a table of Husband's co-workers and make small talk over loud music which I am officially too old to dance to? (Shit, I am now one of those old people who only gets up for the token "Unforgetable" or maybe "Brown-Eyed Girl," if we're really feeling our oats that evening.)
Oh my God, that reminds me of the only fun thing about weddings -- looking at the registry and mocking the things they are asking for! People get soooooooooooo greedy on their registries. I love to act all superior and like, I can't believe they think their friends and relatives can afford that in this economy! Awesome.
And if I'm expected to make small talk with Husband's co-workers, will it be the co-workers that I've come to know and like from the two Christmas parties that I've attended? Or will it be other people too boring to make the cut into Husband's work stories? Or worse, will it be the people that Husband does talk about, but only because they are the most intolerable people alive?
So many questions! So many possibilities! Whatever am I to do?
I know what you're thinking -- Pray for an open bar, Wenchie. But, alas, an open bar is no good to me. I have a one-drink personal limit, which partially comes from having spent much of my formative years surrounded by alcoholics. But the other part is this -- NO ONE wants to see me with fewer inhibitions than I posess on a regular day. I am barely clinging to what shred of a brain-to-mouth filter I have -- and it's getting more and more difficult as I age and get crabbier -- so it would be ill-advised to throw my reserve to the winds when I'm supposed to be playing The Good Wifey.
No, the best I can hope for is a short ceremony, an open dessert buffet, and something inappropriate to blog about.
Posted at 06:19 AM | Comments (2)January 23, 2012
Hapless Prey
Owning a kitchen appliance is like having a spouse -- you ignore the things that you don't like because it's not worth the hassle and expense to get a new one. And when you do get a new one, you're like, I can't believe I put up with so much crap for so long!
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Billi's husband Brad has apparently gotten it into his head that they need **ALL*NEW*STAINLESS*STEEL*APPLIANCES** in their kitchen. And I thought that was hilarious for two reasons. One, their appliances are way newer -- and way better-looking -- than mine, so I can't imagine not loving them. Two, is this something that guys do? Get worked-up about kitchen appliances? Because, in an extraordinary act of table-turning, I think Husband may have to take away Brad's Man Card.
Anyhoo, when Billi told me about their impending purchases, I drooled over their current dishwasher because mine has so many things to hate about it, I can't even start. Don't put a nickel in me! My biggest problem is that it is old and filthy and impossible to clean. And you KNOW how badly that kind of shit sticks in my craw!
And Billi, having a heart of gold, offered me their old dishwasher, once their new one comes. *swoon* A quiet dishwasher without imbedded, 25-year old grime?! Sign me up! I texted Husband immediately with the proposal but never heard back from him because he was in day-long meetings or some blah-blah thing.
When I asked him about it that night, he said, "Well, if we need a new dishwasher, I'd rather just go buy a new one. Do we need a new one?"
"YES." Barely-contained joy!
"Then let's go to Abt this weekend and look for one."
Oh my God! That worked AWESOME! I totally unintentionally tricked him into thinking that getting a new dishwasher was his idea! I am unintentionally brilliant!
We arrived at Abt at 9:30 on Saturday morning, and an adorable older salesman named Will started talking with us. (Not in a pushy way -- Abt salespeople don't work on commission.) By 10:30, Husband and I had decided to get a new dishwasher, double-oven, stove top, microwave and fridge, but to space them out over the course of the next twelve to eighteen months.
By 11:00, we'd added a garbage disposal, new counter tops, new sink, and we're aiming to have to done by the end of February. Yeah, Will is good.
But also, the more we looked at the new, shiny appliances, the less we were able to ignore what's wrong with our current ones. Our fridge routinely freezes anything we put in the vegetable drawers. Of our double-oven, only one of them opens, and that one has a broken handle. Our stove top is rusting. And our microwave is probably giving me brain cancer. (I've already opined about the dishwasher.)
And NOW I understand why Brad is so jazzed about new appliances. He probably went into the store looking for a replacement handle for his oven and fell hapless prey to the shininess of it all.
So, yeah, [un-socially-acceptable overshare regarding our finances] after we pay off our credit cards with Husband's bonus, we're going to rack them up again with a new kitchen. I guess now that I've mentioned it, I'm obligated to do a Before 'n' After blog of my kitchen. Which means that I have to clean it in order to do the Before photos. Dammit. Me and my big mouth.
Posted at 09:42 AM | Comments (2)January 17, 2012
Wenchie's Quest for... Whatever
Okay, I don't mean to get all existential on y'all, but what the hell am I doing with my life? And my blog? Seriously. I am a shallow, self-involved, pathetic excuse for a human being. And I blame Facebook.
I blame Facebook for reconnecting me with people I'd never otherwise reconnect with because they are living awesome, fulfilling lives and don't have time to hang out and eat cheese in yoga pants with me. But they do have time to ocassionally appear on Facebook to remind me of all that I'm not doing with my life... which is at least half over by now, let's face it.
They're either world-traveling artists or teachers of special needs children or professional orphan-and-puppy rescuers or whattheshit. It's completely disgusting. And they all have God's wondrous love to thank for it.
I'm like -- wait a minute. Last time I saw you, you were in a sleeping bag with a bottle of Goldschlagger, a flashlight, and your best friend's brother! What the hell's the matter with you?! You taught me how to smoke and insert a tampon!
Wait, that sounded weird. Those were two entirely different events. I didn't... there wasn't... oh, nevermind.
And this latest one. *seizure-inducing eyeroll* She and her husband just adopted a ten year old orphan girl. From India! Now, c'mon! That's just showing off!
I have no purpose, no direction. I'm never going to write The Great American Novel. No one is ever going to pay to read my stuff. Sometimes I can't even think of a thing to blog about. I just wrote about armpits, for Chrissake! I need to give people a reason to come here! This isn't a cooking blog, or a fashion blog, or a work blog, or a photography blog, or a pet blog. It's not even a Barbie blog! It's just a smörgåsbord blog!
You know, I read other blogs, and I find that the really good ones have a focus. And a production team. But a focus is really important. What do I do best? Why do people come here?
And to add to my looming despair, I also want to COMPLETELY REDESIGN MY ENTIRE BLOG!!! It's not fancy enough. And Heather needs a new pair of shoes. (Heather is my production team.) So I've started playing in the sidebar, which is abating my NEED FOR DRASTIC CHANGE a little bit, but not entirely.
I'm taking this baby to the next level. I mean,... don't hold your breath or anything. But yeah, next level. Me. This. Yeah.
Posted at 07:52 PM | Comments (3)January 13, 2012
Cancer vs. Stench
My dear colleagues,
Thank you for putting up with my experiment, lo, these many months. Oh, c'mon, you know what experiment I'm talking about. The one that has made me smell like the monkey house at the zoo. It hasn't been easy for you, I know, but you've borne it like real troopers. Troopers of tolerance and graciousness.
I was scared, I'll admit. Having two women in my department both come down with breast cancer in the span of six months -- that scared the crap out of me. What if breasts on my floor were being targeted for some reason? What could I do to make sure that mine weren't next?
I decided that I would switch to an all-natural deodorant. After all, putting aluminum and God-knows-what-else on the skin right next to my boobs every, single day was probably not a good idea in the long run.
Oh, sure, I could have chosen to go off the pill or start eating more vegetables, in order to try to stave off cancer. But I'm on the pill for medical reasons (NO, REALLY!), and vegetables are yucky. Switching to an all-natural, non-metal-based deodorant was the obvious choice, since it would make the smallest impact on my hedonistic lifestyle.
First, I tried some fancy-schamncy stuff I got on Sephora, brand name: Clean. Sounds good, right? Clean! It's everything I want, right in the name! I want my pits to smell clean, and my hooters to remain clean of cancer. Yeah, well, Clean made me smell like a bus station by 10:00 a.m. Seriously, the smell was worse than if I'd worn nothing to protect the environment from my b.o.! I must have some sort of supernatural body chemistry that does not behave like a normal human body.
Then I tried Trader Joe's brand. Okay, I'll give Joe the win in that I didn't smell as bad as a Frenchman. However, it still wasn't a good idea to be around me once the afternoon rolled around. I am a super-villian, and stench is my weapon! Fear my fecundity!
One last attempt -- LAVANILA, another all-natural brand that I found on Sephora. I was so hopeful. It has VANILA right in the name! I would smell like a cupcake! A cupcake being eaten by a unicorn on a sunny beach! And I will say that, while it was no unicorn chow, it was the best of the three that I tried, but again -- no match for my otherworldly sweat.
So, my friends, I went back to Secret. Any air wafting past my pits to your nostrils will be Powder Fresh. You're welcome. I hope you're happy. Please come visit me when I get cancer because I'm doing this for YOU.
Love, Wenchie
Posted at 06:36 AM | Comments (1)January 09, 2012
Skimming
I go out for lunch just about every day. And on the rare days that I can't find a dining partner, I go home and eat (thank you, seven-minute commute!). I think I've mentioned it before, my strict rule about not staying at one's desk for lunch. It's bad for you on so many levels!
I have many lunch buddies, including Joan, whose boss is a NAZI HARPIE SHREW and micro-manages the shit out of her whole team. Which means that, when Joan and I go to lunch together, we have to stay very close-by, so as not to exceed the 59 minute lunch hour by one second.
There aren't many great places within a two-mile radius, so we usually end up at the same fast-food chain, the name of which I will not mention, out of respect. (It does not sell burgers.)
About a month ago, something a wee bit strange happened there while the cashier was ringing up my order. When I handed her my money, she was all, "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to ring up your drink." But she did give me the empty cup for my drink and gave me back the amount of change that would be correct if she had rung up my drink.
Now, in a perfect world, the assumption would be that she rang up my drink after I'd taken my food and sat down. I didn't see her do it, but it's not my restaurant, and I didn't feel like standing there and making sure she rang up a drink. I did, however, make note of it and file it away in the back of my brain.
On Friday, Joan and I went to lunch again, to the same place, with the same cashier. I was very careful this time to make sure I said, "AND A FOUNTAIN DRINK," very loudly and clearly before she totaled my order.
But she totaled my order anyway. Without the drink. And she mumbled some lame excuse like, "Oh. Sorry. Heh. It's Friday."
Oh, so you only skim money from your employer on Fridays, bitch?
Yeah, bitch is skimming. There's just no way that accidentally happened twice in succession like that. I eat out four times a week, a dozen different places, and the ONLY time I get charged for a drink that the cashier never rang up is twice in the same place, in the same month, by the same person??? No. Not buyin' it.
I didn't say anything then because I didn't want her to associate my face with The Person Who Narked On Her. (And I fo' sho' narked on Little Miss Sticky Fingers.) If she doesn't get fired, I don't want her spitting in my food. And if she does get fired, I don't want her hunting me down and shanking me in the liver.
But before I called the store's manager, I sat on it for a couple days. For my own peace of mind, I wanted to figure out -- why does this particular crime bother me so much? I mean, I could feel my blood pressure go up twenty points when it happened the second time, and I positively obsessed on it all weekend. Without knowing why.
Am I concerned that someone skimming, say, a hundred bucks a week is going to close down one of my regular lunch places? No. Do I particularly give a shit about random petty thievery? No. Am I some kind of zealous justice-seeker who cares passionately about righting every wrong in the world? Honestly, no.
It finally dawned on me Sunday morning -- I don't like that bitch thinking that she pulled one over on me. I mean, clearly she thinks that I have a gullible face because she chose ME twice. And I just can't let that kind of presumption go unpunished. I may have slim to zero street cred, but I'm not completely unsavvy in the ways of the world. I know a skim when I see it, and I knew it the FIRST time she did it. So her REAL crime is thinking that I am DOUBLY stupider than her.
Fuck that. Bitch is GOING DOWN.
I called the store Sunday afternoon and asked to speak to the manager. I told him my whole story, in detail but without using the words bitch, nark or shank. He asked a couple questions but mostly just listened. When I was done, the thanked me profusely, assured me he'd be looking into it, apologized, thanked me again, and we were done.
And I am satisfied. I didn't expect him to be like, "That bitch is toast!" or anything; that'd be unprofessional. After all, he doesn't know me and has know idea that I am both a paragon of honesty and a food service veteran. I'm sure he'll look into it, and I'm gonna give him some time to do that before I go back there again.
When I do go back there again, if she is there and pulls the same crap, I am going to loudly and pointedly make sure I see her ring up my goddamn beverage.
Just because my face is adorable and the picture of sweetness and light doesn't mean that I am gullible.
Posted at 06:28 AM | Comments (1)January 05, 2012
Fast Forward
Here's what I have to look forward to blogging about in 2012... assuming something suitably kooky happens at these events.
I have to add that disclaimer because I was really hoping to write a post about Older Step Daughter's wedding this past July, but honestly? There was -- to my dismay -- absolutely nothing mock-worthy. The ceremony was lovely and a very tolerable 45 minutes long. The reception was classy with amazing, not-your-typical-banquet-hall food. There were no drunken shenanigans or whorey bridesmaids. Quite the grievous disappointment.
Anyhoo, looking ahead, I have a pretty dynamite year pending:
January
Next week will be the first five-day week I'll work in a long time. To ease me back into my routine, my employing organization gives us Martin Luther King Jr. Day off. Another four-day week! And then Lady Boss goes to St. Croix for ten days, which is basically a vacation for me, too. But without the relaxing surroundings and removal from reality. So... yeah, not at all a vacation. But I'll be taking some long lunches! And running with scissors! So there!
February
I am going to institute a new tradition this year: Love Fest! I'm having my work-friends over to my house, and we'll do kind of a Secret Santa thing, only we'll call it Secret Saint V. or something stupid like that. Also? Beatrix and I are going to see Legally Blonde! To which I may or may not bring my Legally Blonde Barbie...
March
Since there is nothing else going on in March, and since I didn't get one for Christmas and will probably not be getting one for Valentine's Day (since the Secret Saint V. $20-limit would prohibit it), I will mostly likely break down and just go buy a damn Joan Holloway Barbie for myself.
April
Once every third year, Husband's employer takes everyone in the company -- and their spouses -- on an all-expenses-paid trip to some fancy-schmancy resort. Well, April 2012 is the third year, and Miami is the fancy-schmancy destination. We'll be staying at the shamefully-posh Mandarin Oriental Hotel. And while I am quite looking forward to being pampered to the point of swooning -- and the possibility of running into Bruce Campell IT COULD HAPPEN! HIS SHOW IS SHOT ON LOCATION IN MIAMI! -- I am not at all excited about the plane ride, the tropicalness, or the bugs. I am quite at odds with myself. Terribly vexed. Oh, and we're probably buying a new car.
May
Just as I discover the sublime hair-perfection that Dani can provide, she has to go and get herself knocked-up. Her baby is due in May, and she will be on maternity leave for three months. I am, of course, appalled at her indiscretion and devastated by her betrayal. But since I can't go three months without a haircut, I will have to trust her to leave me in the accomplished, scissor-wielding hands of one of her colleagues. I might forgive her if she names the baby after me. You see, we have our nephew's wedding to attend, and my hair must be TRANSCENDENT. It's a wedding in Los Angeles, another Jeebus-forsaken, sweltering, insect-beset place that can only be reached by plane. That's TWO plane trips in one year, people! I'm gonna have to refill my Xanax prescription. To mentally prepare myself, I will first take my annual trip to Door County with Billi and Terry. And somewhere in there, I'll have to go to Younger Step Daughter's college graduation and attend a performance of The Pirates of Penzance, probably on the same weekend. But hear this -- I am NOT missing Pirates!!!
June
This year is me and Husband's tenth wedding anniversary! But after the wedding, the graduation, the car, and the season theatre tickets, I'm sure we'll be celebrating at Culver's with a couple of value baskets.
July
Another baby due to a couple dear friends of mine. It had better be a girl because the last FOUR babies born in my family have been boys, and I wanna buy something pink and frilly! Also, we will be seeing the show Hero, which I have never heard of.
August
I have absolutely zero going on in August. Naught. Zilch. Tedium. Anyone wanna hang out?
September
This is Billi's birthday month, and I have no idea how I'm going to top last year's Coach purse. Tiffany necklace? Kenneth Cole shoes? Joan Holloway Barbie? Maybe I'll buy her the extra-large box of Junion Mints when we go see Dreamgirls.
October
Lawdy but October is turning out to be another May. Another out-of-state wedding (haven't decided if I'm flying or driving). Columbus Day weekend Galena get-away with my long lost cousins and cousins-in-law: Egrau and J, PJ and Ramone. Then, if I'm not completely bankrupt, the annual end-of-the-season trip to Door County with Billi and Terry to shop all the boutique clearance sales!
November
Out of money and vacation days. Even a value basket at Culver's will be an indulgence.
December
Anyone ever hear of the show My One & Only? Yeah, me neither. Hopefully, it'll be good enough that Husband will let me buy season tickets for 2013. I'm sure there's something else happening in December, but I just can't think of it at the moment.
January 01, 2012
Pause for a Rewind
So, it's New Year's Day, and I guess this is where I'm supposed to do some sort of recap of the past year, and list my resolutions. But the concept isn't thrilling me. Oh, it'll be fun to look over my posts from the past year and pull out a few that still crack me up (if I do say so myself).
But resolutions? Really? I'm not even sure those are P.C. anymore. All the blogs that I've been reading this year -- like PeaceBang's and Sally McGraw's and Miss Representation -- are all about loving who you are and doing the best with what you have without putting undue pressure on yourself to be other peoples' version of perfect. And while all that self-huggy crap is horrifyingly embarassing to type, I have to admit -- I WANT TO BE PERFECT. And I'm the furthest thing from it, so somewhere between here and there, I have to make my peace.
Jeebus, two paragraphs in, and I've already made everyone feel awkward. Let's review, shall we?
In a fanciful rambling voted the "Best. Post. Ever." (by two commenters, which, in Wenchie land, is a resounding majority), I was able to cast-off the oppessive rule of PhD Boss, once and for all! ... Only to take-up indentured servitude again soon after for a different boss. Luckily, I am still able to hold my head high because, this year, things actually worked out in my favor with a real job and a nice raise.
My real job inevitably led to a debilitating injury, my renewed romance with Dr. Hottie, and waaaaaay too many posts about shoes, which no one wants to relive. I also had to suffer through a multi-day power outage, a huge flood, and fucking GARDENING. But in the end, my pain is your pointing and laughing, so I guess I should be grateful for something to write about other than shoes.
Besides my job, the only really new, big thing was a new 'do for me. So long adolesent, Alice-in-Wonderland tresses! Hello sleek, professional coiffure! Everything else was same ol', same ol'. Mocking the Anthopologie catalog, obsessing over racism and black hair, and conversing with my dogs. Some things never change -- I am still a huge narccissist who blogs mainly about myself.
Sheesh, I am exhausted from looking up all those posts. And from waking up before 6 a.m. despite staying up until nearly 11:00. Because God forbid my body ever remembers that I am not a farmer, and there will be no cow udders exploding if I'm allowed to remain asleep until 7:00!
My New Year's weekend has been pretty darn awesome, and will continue for another day, since we get January 2nd off. Yay! My fridge smells like three days of Italian restaurant take-out leftovers, and my freezer contains no fewer than four different-flavored pints of Culver's frozen custard. Husband and I have a bottle of champagne to share, but alas, there is no room in our innards!
And now to view more of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, with commentary.
Posted at 02:26 PM | Comments (1)