Spring Sprang

Hello my lovelies,

Spring is officially here! There are buds on the trees {insert Mile High City “bud” joke here if you must}, the tulips are beginning to bloom, my allergies have me sniffling like a coke-whore and I’ve begun relegating my heavy sweaters and coats to the spare closet. As the days get longer and the temps warmer I find my eyeballs greeted by mounds of doughy, white flesh, freshly liberated from winter’s knitted cocoon. DAMN YOU SPRING! FWIW - if I was just my hideous nakedness I was seeing I wouldn’t be bitching to all of you about it.

After that little rant you are probably going to be surprised to know this, but I have pretty much audulted like a damn boss lately!

• Tax day, April 15 - Check — I got my taxes done nine whole days ahead of that deadline.

• Reading glasses that I sometimes feel like I need even when I’m not actually reading - BOOM! I made a appointments an optometrist.

• That annoying little mole on the side of my neck that’s been there for years, but suddenly feels bumpy, Dermatologist here I come.

• Oh, yeah and remember that mammogram that I was supposed to have when I turned 40. Scheduled! Believe it or not there isn’t even a potluck that I am trying to avoid. (for those of you who are new to this or not paying attention I scheduled a root canal to avoid an office potluck.)

FWIW I do realize that I am knocking on the door of 46, so maybe it’s a bit premature to pat myself of the back for scheduling an appointment six year late, but it’s now scheduled. Finally! Spoiler alert - you are very likely going to be getting another coffee very soon because I’m sure your all dying to hear about how incredibly adult I am when my boob is being smushed. YOU’RE WELCOME!

I’ve also decided that this newly minted adult behavior needs to include doing something other than work, wine and HGTV. Don’t judge me! I used to totally be Team Joanna Gaines, but I’m frankly sick of seeing that Magnolia crap everywhere and that farmhouse look is not my style. Anyway, to help me figure out what life, outside of my protective all I do is work bubble, might actually look like, I hired a life-coach. I know probably should have opted for therapy, but that sort of feels like I’d be admitting that I am absolutely fing up my new big girl life, so I’m starting with a life coach.

The first step in working with Mr. Getting-me-a-Life coach involves reading a book. YES! I rock at sitting home alone, usually with a glass of wine, reading books. I am NAILING this! Hiring a life coach was totally the way to go! Hmmmm, so the “book” is actually a guide to step me through the process of writing my life plan. It turns out that I am way better at sitting home alone, with wine, reading books that involve suspense, murder, kidnapping and / or sex. Seriously, NO JUDGING. I trust that you all remember that “really strong weaknesses” post from a few months back. I’m pretty sure I am going to suck at this.

Life Plan Step 1 — “Write Your Eulogy”

I envision my eulogy reading something like this….

Fun, funny, sarcastic, pain-in-the ass! Ronda loved to laugh and make those around her laugh. As evidenced by the size of her ass she also loved to cook and clearly enjoyed eating. Ronda knew how to have a good time, enjoyed being the center of attention, and that bitch knew how to get shit done!

I promise will take the exercise seriously and actually write a proper(ish) eulogy. I mean let’s be real if I write this it’s safe to say that the FCC would restrict any newspaper from actually publishing it based on the “colorful” language that it will contain, but I WILL complete the exercise.

Life Plan Step #2 - Establish Your Life Accounts

This is the part where I am supposed to take into account all of the people in my life and what they mean to me. My life is so incredibly rich with amazing, beautiful friends that I absolutely treasure, but the stupid list of life accounts in this book is precisely why I need a damn life coach and a therapist and wine, oh, so much wine….

Here are the categories that I am supposed to consider for my “life accounts”

1. Family — Strike ONE — my parents are dead and I have no relationship with my siblings

2. Spouse — Strike two — we all know that story

3. Kids… YEAH - OK, I know - I’m a LOSER!

FMYLIFE! I am seriously hating this book almost as much as the widow book that said I would have to learn to do things around the house like change a lightbulb. So far the life coach book is mostly just a reminder of how pathetic and alone I’ve become. I’m going to do my best to focus on the four categories that I don’t detest talking about:

1. Friends

2. Finances

3. Work

4. Health

Maybe I will even test my real adult merit and consider the other categories Hobbies and Faith. Luckily I read ahead an saw that in Chapter 4 we get to talk about “self-love!” I’m not sure my life coach really wants an in-depth overview about my relationship with batteries, but if he pushes me to reconnect with my jackwad siblings he may just get more than he bargained for during the “self-love” section.

I kid… pretty much… mostly I kid… teehee?

Mammogram on Friday and my first Life Coach session is Monday. Wish me luck! Er, on second thought, maybe I should say wish HIM luck.

Until next time…

XOXO

FACTS...ish! A collection of mostly true crap according to Ronda...

Hello my darlings,

It’s been ages since I sat my fat butt down to do this. I have lots of ideas in my head, but I’m working so damn much that when I’m finally not working sitting back down at my computer is the last thing I want to do. Typically, I try to develop some semblance of a theme for these posts, but this one is going to more closely resemble the ping-ponging that happening in my head right now.

Please note all stories are true, possibly (read OH HELLS YES!) embellished, but true-ish…. Enjoy your daily dose of coffee, Ronda-style.

Truth in Advertising

I’ve noticed recently that there are a lot of claims made by marketers that aren’t really true. Here are a few of the obvious ones (and a parable about dating thrown in for good measure)

1.) Better than Sex Mascara — Sephora sells this shit for $28 a tube. Ummmm that’s a pretty lofty claim that mascara is going to be better than sex. All I can say if that IF you actually think this product is better than sex, you are definitely doing sex wrong. FWIW the mascara isn’t very good either.

2.) “Fun size” — I find it interesting that the smallest, saddest little candy bar is labeled “fun size” Really? Fun for who? In my new single girl life I’ve now sampled a bit of “candy” and I can say for certain that “FUN” size really isn’t all that fun. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying everything needs to be King Size, that brings a whole other set of problems. All I’m saying is that sometimes, what a girl needs is a Snickers that really satisfies! FACT!

3.) Defining a gimmick — my gym offers a 3D scan to measure weight and lean muscle mass and body fat, etc. I see this as a gimmicky tool that is going to spit out a bunch of numbers that I am going to completely ignore and continue living my life exactly the same way I am now. My new trainer (more about this asshat below) was really trying to sell me on having the scan done. I asked him how the data would actually change the workouts that he had planned for me. He just kept saying that he would have numbers and data and stuff. I just kept challenging what exactly he planned do with the data and how fundamentally it would change the structure of my workouts. Long-story short, I was exhausted by attempting to argue with this mental-midget and told him flatout that I would never submit to this ridiculous gym gimmick. He asked me what gimmick was… I didn’t throat-punch him! Hooray for self-restraint!

Gym woes and WHOAS….

I still attempt to get to the gym at least a couple of times per week. I’m also going to yoga 2-3 times per week and I do a spin class most Saturdays. There have been a few gym moments that I can’t unsee, so you now have to read about them. You’re welcome!

1.) No Nooooo Lululemon — In 2013 Lululemon was sued for selling see-through athletic wear. In my new yoga adventures I don’t know if the woman was wearing circu 2012 pants or if the sheerness continues, but I can confirm that they are indeed very transparent. Blech! Getting all bendy and twisty is enough of a challenge, I don’t want that view of another woman’s ladybits.

2.) Bike shorts in spin class are good — sweatpants in spin class are VERY bad. I really like spin class. It’s hard and fast and I burn a ton of calories and feel great afterward. That said, I think gyms should enforce a few rules about spin class attire, especially for men. Bike shorts come up higher on the waist are made for being on a bicycle. Sweatpants are often worn lower around the hips and result in a terrifying butt-crack exposing fiasco when alternating between sitting and standing. Two weeks ago a very tall gentleman of Indian-origin attended my spin class. He came in late, wearing baggy sweatpants and ill-fitting (read too small) tighty-whities. Lucky me, he chose the bike directly in front of me. FMYLIFE! When the instructor told us to “hover” which is where you lean forward on the bike so your butt hovers just above the seat, I prayed that my stationary spin bike would crash or perhaps that I would spontaneously go blind. Neither happened! Suffice it to say I pretty much sweated my way through a 60-minute proctological exam. Yesterday, that guy came to class again, this time he showed up on time (I was about 5-minutes into my warm-up) and when he got on the bike in front of me I immediately got off the bike I was on, selected and adjusted one at the opposite end of the row and resumed my workout. I couldn’t stomach a second opportunity to exam his prostate.

PS - Hovering is also the reason I firmly believe that the chubby ones should all be in the back row. I am very much a back row girl in spin class! Ain’t nobody want a view of this girl's butt from that angle. FACT!

3.) Training my trainer — My fabulous personal trainer that I’ve been working out with for the last six months recently moved to Virginia. I still have PT sessions available, so they transferred me to the dipshit I mentioned above. This guy clearly looked at me and saw a fat-girl and assumed I wouldn’t be able to do much. The jackwad went so far as to ask if I could life a 10lb ball above my head. WTF! Seriously? Yesterday was our first workout. He handed me a 10lb medicine ball and asked if I thought I MIGHT be able to do 10 ball slams. I did 5, put the 10lb ball back on the rack, grabbed a 20lb ball and did 15 more. Bitch please! When I was done I suggested that maybe he should make fewer snap judgements about his new clients. Assclown!

A few more reasons why you should all celebrate that I did not procreate…

1.) Child sherpas — There is a woman that parks near me in my apartment parking garage. She has a small child that is roughly 5-years old. Every time, not kidding, every single time I see her at her car she has a wagon. Now I get that you have to tote around a lot of crap when you have kids, but seriously how can she need so much that it requires a wagon every time. She always makes the kid climb in the wagon to go into the building. The irony is that she lets him run around amongst the cars while she is loading whatever she had to haul around into the wagon.

If I had a five-year-old and I felt the need to tote around enough shit that would warrant me loading and unloading a wagon every time I got in my car I would make that little brat my sherpa. I would put one backpack on his back and another on his front and make him carry some crap. Hell, I might even load it with bricks and make him take the stairs a few times just to tire him out. It works for puppies, I don’t see why it won’t work for kids.

Gee, I hope in my dating adventures I meet a man with a few kids, I think I’d be a real swell stepmom. HA!

2.) Girl scout mommies — I encountered a very brash girl scout mommy recently. She was in front of the cookies table, shouting at people walking into the store that it was the last weekend and we all needed to get our cookies now. As I walked up, she looked me in the eye and said “you look like you can afford to buy some girl scout cookies” to which I replied “I absolutely can afford to buy girl scout cookies and had a girl scout actually asked me to buy the cookies I would have done so.” I’m so glad that nonsense is done for another year.

Until next time…

XOXO

PS - Cindy Kennedy’s daughter Alex setup the subscription link and is going to help me build a distribution list, so you will automatically be notified when I post some nonsense. YAY! Thanks Alex!

Now Enrolling -- Ronda's Driving School

Hello my darlings,

DAMN - I let a whole month get away without subjecting you to my inane rants. Well, sorry (NOT sorry) kids, that break is over. You may have noticed (or soon will notice) the subscribe popup. I gave my friend Cindy’s daughter Alex admin access and she worked her magic. YAY! Now I guess I just need to verify if it really works. Hows abouts you all enter your email addresses (or the email address of someone you detest and wish to inflict this nonsense on) and I will commit to posting some more boorish rants soonish and we can test it out together.

So, let’s talk about this driving school, shall we….

You may all remember from the November post that I traded in the old Volvo for a new Jaguar. Grrrr, I LOVE that car — perhaps to the point of obsession. It really is a sexy piece of hardware! Well, this obsession may make me a little protective of inferior vehicles (and there are MANY inferior vehicles) getting too close to her. This mama bear protection instinct is never greater than when assclowns are getting a little too close as we are driving 85 MPH on I25. Since you all know how committed I am to making the world be better place — or at least how committed I am to making those around me bow to my will - it seems only appropriate that I start a driving school to help clean up our highways. Here’s the syllabus for the school. I think I’m really onto something.

Session #1 — Accelerate and merge

ACCELERATE is the key word here. Do NOT stop at the end of merge lane! Accelerate and move into traffic and if your piece of shit car can’t do that then you and your POS need to stay off the damn highway. PS - if you are too afraid to complete the maneuver then STOP DRIVING!

Session #2 — Get off my bumper A**HOLE!

Seriously, the tailgating has got to stop. Leave a safe following (and STOPPING) distance.

Session #3 — Left lane = Fast lane

If your granny-ass is afraid to drive fast or if you earth-saving Prius can’t actually go fast then stay as far away from the left lane as possible.

Session #4 — Slow down and be safe, but don’t stop too lookie-loo when you see red and blue lights

See also Session #2 because if you’re the jackwad slamming on your brakes to look at the accident then the moron behind you with a snowboard for the bumper on her Subaru is going to end up in the trunk of your Camry. PS - if you look in your rearview mirror and see a Subaru with a snowboard for a bumper, it’s probably safe to assume it didn’t come from the factory that way. It’s also safe to assume the bitch driving is too stupid to understand that the reason she has a snowboard for a bumper is because she didn’t pay attention in Session #2. FWIW I witnessed this exact scenario directly beside me yesterday. Jagger and I were both terrified, fortunately we escaped unscathed.

Session #5 - It’s stop and go in ALL of the lanes so just pick and damn lane and stay there

This session is mandatory for everyone driving a jacked-up giant diesel truck and also anyone driving a Camaro or Mustang. Clearly, these man-children are compensating for their lack of equipment and or skill in other areas of life.

Starting this school is probably going to require some angel investing, so as soon as I hire a millenial to teach me how to use Venmo or Zell, I’ll be sure to get you the details so you can send money.

Until next time…

XOXO

Really strong weaknesses

Hello my lovelies,

Geez, it’s been ages since I sat down to write this nonsense. I have to admit that I’ve been in quite a funk lately. I recently passed the two-year anniversary of being thrust into my new big girl life. Somedays I feel like I am killing it, many days I’m going through the motions and just doing whatever it is my work calendar dictates and other days I’m just trying to hold my shit together enough in public to prevent being committed to a mental health facility.

Rather that hiding my my apartment, stewing in my own pathetic, self-pity sauce I am trying to push myself to get out of my apartment, try new things, meet new people and just generally live a little bit. For the most part this means more exercise and less wine; though if I’m being honest there have been a few days where that “exercise” looked at lot like sitting on the couch, drinking wine in sweatpants that, not so ironically, say “Cocktail and Chill” on the leg. (PFFT! I know some of you thought I was going to say on the ass, but you all know that this girls does not and will not own wordy-ass-pants!) I’ve also tried a couple of books and podcasts to engage and take a stab at retraining my brain. SIDEBAR “My Dad Wrote a Porno” is an absolutely hilarious podcast that I totally recommend if you just need some mindless trash to laugh at. One of the books, in my self-help journey, suggested that I work through an exercise to review strengths and weaknesses and do a little “mental decluttering” to examine how to convert those weaknesses into strengths. The formula for this exercise is:

Weakness —> a mental decluttering sentence about how to reposition it into a strength —> Strength

Turns out I am too much of a jackass to even do that correctly… FWIW I think the author would be OK with me being a jackass in the exercise because she originally introduced this method on a book titled “The Life Changing Magic of Not Giving a F*ck!” Here’s the result of my “mental decluttering”

Weakness #1 — Bossy —> Seriously, there are too many indecisive people and if I don’t take charge and boss a few people around we are never going to get anywhere —> Gettin shit done!

Weakness #2 — Controlling —> Right, so with that bossiness I occasionally (read ALL the DAMN TIME) have a tendency to encourage (read Coerce) these indecisive little ninnies to do it my way, but since it’s clear that I am going to be the one making the decision (see Getting shit done reference above) then it only makes sense that it be done my way. Besides, I’m probably right, so it’s going to be less painful for all of us if everyone just does what I suggest. —> Gettin shit done my way #Rondasprobablyright

Weakness #3 — Judgemental —> Seriously? Have you seen how some people dress? Have you listened to the inane travality that falls out of people’s pie-holes? I am merely pointing out the asshattery that surrounds me, besides, that shit is funny —> Expressing a unique perspective

Weakness #4 — Foul-mouthed —> Again, that shit’s funny! Right, so I know there’s a comedian that doesn’t swear and is still super funny. Fine, apparently he doesn’t encounter as many assclowns as I do on a daily basis —> Creative language skills

Weakness #5 — Opinionated —> I’ve been told that people don’t actually need my conjecture to comprehend situations, but I’m just trying to paint the most realistic picture of how I perceived an event or occurrence —> Wise and articulate

Weakness #6 — Jaded —> Yeah, ummmm, well, ummmmm I’ll just say that I use experience to make decisions —> Delivering Sagely Advice (usually unsolicited)

Weakness #7 — Crass —> I realize that I have a tendency to be a bit insensitive, and perhaps I could exercise a bit more tact when opining, or act a bit less boorish when getting shit done, but at the end of the day we’re getting shit done, so maybe the feeble, little ninnies that I boss around should make a list of their weaknesses and do their own mental decluttering to grow a damn spine —> Helping others develop

Weakness #8 — Sarcastic —> Frankly, it pains me to call this a weakness, but then I encounter those incredibly kind, nice, generous people that don’t feel inclined to make a snarky comment about the lazy-ass men wearing sweatpants in public (SIDEBAR - This has officially replaced yoga pants as my new pet peeve, but wordy-ass pants (PINK, JUICY, etc.) is still the most criminal fashion offense. Yes, I am STILL looking at you NaNet) and I realize that there is an option to respond with a non-sarcastic comment, but then I open my mouth and a bossy, know-it-all, curse laded rant falls out of my face before I even know what happened. Not really! I know what I’m saying and frankly I love sarcasm, because the stupid people don’t understand it and I think that is hilarious —> Wise, educated, articulate with VERY creative linguistic skills

Turns out I suck at self-help, but fortunately, I excel at self-righteous! Oh well, do one thing (or possibly eight) well…

Remember that singles club that I mentioned the last time I sent one of these, yeah, well I signed up for the New Year’s Eve party (which sadly means I must wear something other than pajamas on Dec 31) AND for a Singles Mixer (Oh lord I should not sign-up for these things while I’m wallowing in self-pity on my third glass of wine) so there there are LOTS more adventures in store for me, which means you all get to suffer through it with me. You’re WELCOME!

Until next time…

XOXO

PS — Happy 50th Birthday to NaNet! Yes, you read that right fifty years ago today three smartish resident interns (the real doctors took the night off) somewhere in Massachusetts bestowed her parents with gifts of sage, hemp and coal. Seriously, what did you think I was going to say she was born one day early and she is NOT Jesus! XOXO Love you N!

PPS - Hope you all have/had a fabulous holiday with your family and friends. I am spending the week with a very cuddly, geriatric dog named Molly while my friends are in Mexico. In honor of my visit they erected a jackass tree with a topper made out of a toilet paper roll and left gifts for Molly and I under a Charlie-Brown tree on the counter. It’s amazing how well these people know me and for some reason they still trust me to know where they live….

Writing the next chapter

Hello!

Remember me?

I’m the snarky, pain in the ass that used to clutter your inbox with musings about the general banality of my life or to lament about the asshattery and shenanigans of the inhabitants of my building, oh, yeah and to make fun of those poor, unsuspecting suckers on the light rail. I will confess I’ve thought about a lot of things I could write over the past few months, but I haven’t managed to get my butt in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard to write anything, until now!

I’ve officially closed my Downtown Denver chapter! I picked up my last few remaining items and turned in my keys on November 1. I’m now officially a suburban girl living in Centennial (also known as BFE to Joie when she realized how far it really is to get down here) I still have a two-bedroom apartment, roughly the same size as my downtown apartment, but it’s definitely much less posh than my previous dwelling. While I may have taken a small step back in the level of luxury I’ve taken a few huge steps forward in overall quality of life. The hallways and entryways don’t reek of dog urine. It’s been two full weeks and I have yet to see dog poop in the elevator, the stairs or on the sidewalk. I’m no longer constantly being tempted to shove people whizzing around on scooters into traffic, mostly because there are no F*ing scooters! WAHOOOO!!!! By far the best part of life in suburbia is the noise level. It is so quiet down here! I’m not subject to the maddening whine of crotch rockets and tricked out Honda Civics buzzing around at all hours. There is no more banging, clanging, rumbling train noises all day and all night. I’m no longer constantly baraged by the thwack of skateboards clattering around. The incessant horns honking below me is now just a distant memory. In fact, I’ve only heard sirens and both times were before 8:30 PM. After 18-months in the hustle and bustle of the downtown scene I’m really enjoying the calm that the burbs have to offer.

Apparently a new dwelling wasn’t enough change for one week, so I bought a new car as well. I took the old Volvo in for service and found out that my solid, old, sensible station wagon, with a blue book value of around $2K needed around $3500 in repairs to keep it safe and reliable. I know the car was sound and that $3500 would have easily gotten me through another year or two, but since I’m saving all that money with my grown-up life rent payment I decided it was time to get something new. I also realize that I could have opted for a very sensible, mature, grown-up vehicle and purchased a safe, reliable Honda/Toyota/Hyundai but you’ll be pleased to know that I completely eschewed that nonsense and bought a Jaguar F-Pace! BOOM! It’s an SUV, so it’s still practical(ish) and it has a 3.5L Turbo engine, so it’s really powerful. This car is opulent and beautiful and luxurious and so much fun to drive!

Now that I have a charming new apartment and a fabulous new car I figured my life was probably in need of a makeover too. I mean it’s not necessarily a bad thing that I spend entire Sunday’s migrating between my big comfy chair and my bed reading books. I’ve even gotten pretty used to eating meals alone and I’m finally at a place where I don’t hate it entirely. OK, some days I really hate it, but I hardly ever cry while sitting at the bar, alone, eating appetizers and drinking happy hour priced wine anymore. Seriously, that’s a HUGE improvement from my first few months in Denver, but I digress. The first step in my life makeover was to get my fat-butt back into the gym! I’m once again working out 4-5 days a week. I’m not really focused on losing weight, but this is a great thing for stress management. That said, my big decision was to join a local “events and activities” group for singles.

Let’s get one thing straight this is NOT A DATING SERVICE! This is a group for active, adult, singles. This is about events and adventures. UGH! I don’t know what that means! Truth be told, I pretty much suck at this! Turns out that paying money to join a club to do new things doesn’t actually motivate me to leave my apartment and actually DO new things. In a little over a month as part of this club I’ve only attended two events. The first one, a happy hour, was terrible, but the second, a Bocce ball event at Rhein Haus, was a lot more fun. I even met a couple of fun, new people. I had dinner with one of those people last week and he encouraged me to suck it up and just sign up for lots of different things. I decided to take his advice and sign-up for something this week! That all changed when I saw the schedule.

I now remember the exact reason that I am in my pajamas at 5:30 on a Monday night. The events for this week are “Potluck and Pictures” on Friday and a “Singles Mixer and Karaoke” on Saturday. That pretty much seems exactly like my vision of the weekend from hell. I trust you all remember my love of root canals, cause seriously, that is more desirable than a damn potluck. I do not understand the fascination with potlucks, but are you freaking kidding me, a potluck and pictures? OH HELL NOOOOOOO! I just envision a bunch of weird geeks (I’ve attend two events and geeks are definitely a thing, sadly, not the nerdy, cute boys, mostly just weird geeks with a significant quantities of nose and ear hair) ladeling brown, mushy pseudo-meatlike products out of crock pots while posing into their cellphones taking selfies all night. Hmmmm, potlucks, ear hair and selfies, that sounds like a trifecta of things that piss me off and what a super-sexy way to spend a Friday night… #NOTHAPPENING Everything about a potluck and pictures sounds so incredibly awful, but if I had to pick one, which I DON’T and WON’T, I’d probably have to opt for crock-pot slop over a singles mixer.

To be fair, I don’t actually know what a singles mixer is, but somehow I doubt that my delightful, charming wit (aka sarcastic, foul-mouth) is actually the thing that complete strangers want to “mix” with. I feel a mixer is one of those events where you’re supposed to smile and look pretty and act charming. HA! I would fail at all three. For some reason, I suspect that rolling your eyes at some jackwad’s overly rehearsed 30-second “commercial” is not the appropriate technique to win friends or influence people at a mixer. If I were to attend, which I will NOT, I would roll up in the Jag wearing slouchy jeans and a T-shirt that simply says “Ummmm NOPE!” and probably offend every man, woman and child I passed as I made my way, fat-girl style, to the buffet table. I think it’s safe to say that I’m more of an acquired taste than a “mixer” kinda gal, so I should probably take a pass on this weekend’s events. Oh and do not even get me started on karaoke…..

Looking ahead at the schedule there are two wine tasting events coming up and a Thanksgiving eve bar crawl. There maybe some potential in this events group after all. I promise to keep you all posted of my events and adventures progress…

Until next time…

XOXO

PS - We are having a Thanksgiving potluck at work on Thursday. I’d blow it off, but I really like most of the people I work with and it’s a small office, so me skipping would make me look like a complete asshole. I am truly dreading the stench of the miscellaneous crockpot concoctions, stewing in their vile juices, but I’m going to attend and I’m even going to taste some of the food. Blech! I feel sick just thinking about it!

PPS - I’m supposed to contribute food to the potluck. Do any of you have a good Jello-salad recipe that you can share? Hahahahahahahaha

PPS - That is a joke! Do NOT send me Jello-salad recipes! I promise, I will return the favor and you’re not going to like what I send! Love ya, kiss kiss

Celebration worthy...

Hello my darlings,

First, let me TY U 4 UR smartass responses.... GAH!  It pains me to even type that.  What I really want to say is Thank you all, so very much, for your smartass responses to my last post.  I love the fact that you all get me, for worse and for oh-lord-what-is-she-going-to-do-next, so much worse!  

Today is a truly celebration worthy day!  Today, Tuesday, August 28, my friends, is National Red Wine Day!  I'm a little offended that my beloved red wine only get a day and Nude Recreation gets a whole week, but we've go to start somewhere and frankly, I personally have celebrated way more red wine weeks than nude recreation seconds.  You're Welcome!  I know ain't nobody wants to see all this bidness all neked and such! 

I hope you can all join me in celebrating this incredibly special day with me.  I for one will be celebrating this evening with a glass (read bottle) of Malbec.  

Until next time...

XOXO

PS - Thanks for all of the well-wishes about the new apartment.  I'm really excited about it.  I thought I should share a picture of the floorplan.  It's ironic that there is wine in every room. Weird!  Oh, and not actually my floor plan, but rest assured there will be plenty of wine in my apartment, but probably not in the bathroom, well....

XO