30's not old
I am officially not old for a tree. Technically, I have been officially not old if I was a tree since last Thursday, but since my celebratory evenening was last night, I'm counting that as the official beginning to my third decade.
I had a fabulous time, and did LOTS of talking. (And, for me, LOTS of drinking, but that was fun, too!) Then, there was music, which I will talk more about later. (I know, shocking, right?)
Then I came home and talked to the dave and then I fell asleep where I had My Dream:
So last night I had a dream where Me and The Dave come home, but there's some jerkface in a fancy penismobile parked in my spot. So I say, "Hey! What are you doing in my spot?" and he's all "I can park anywhere I want!" and I'm all, "Nu-uh! This is my spot, MOVE!" and he's all, "I'm intimidated! I'll move right now!" Because clearly I am badass.
So I get back in my car, and instead of just pulling into my spot, I have to drive down the street. Which I do. And who should I run into (not literally, that would be a different dream.) but My Boyfriend Peyton Manning! Who is going through people's garbage and taking their junk mail. His big plan is then to go door to door and sell their junk mail back to them after pointing out the dangers of identity theft. (He also has purchased much stock in a shredder company, but this is inside knowledge I have, not something that is known by the public at large. )
So we're standing at the side of the road, chatting, me with my little hot-wheels looking grey Hyundai, him with his orange and green rusted out Dodge Dart (?) and the cops show up. It's Jackie-From-Roseanne as the one cop, and the blonde girl from Criminal Minds as the other cop. (Guess what I watched yesterday. Go on, guess.) Blonde girl cop says, "You can't talk here! I can arrest you!" and I say, "No you can't! We're at the side of the road, we're not blocking traffic or anything." and she says, "I can TOTALLY arrest you!" and I say, "Not if you can't catch us! Come on, My Boyfriend Peyton Manning!" and we jump into our respective cars. I am a badass criminal GENIUS.
Through the subtle use of hand-signals, I take My Boyfriend Peyton Manning to my mom's school. What better place to hide from the cops than a middle school that is in reality 600 miles away, I ask you. So me and My Boyfriend Peyton Manning go to my mom's classroom, but she's not there. So obviously, it is my job to entertain the students until her return. My Boyfriend Peyton Manning shows some of the students stuff about football involving lots of Xs and Os and a whiteboard. I, on the other hand, had the students put their MP3 players on shuffle and told them all who had decent taste in music. Very few eighth graders who live in my head have decent taste in music. Some of them REALLY like The Used, though, so that's okay.
Then, a guy in a lame ugly brown suit comes in and is all, "I'm the teacher now! Shut up and sit down and blah blah blah!" so I say, "Hey, where's my mom?" and he says, "I said sit down and shut up!" and I say, "I am not your student, don't talk to me like that!" and he says, "I'll talk to you any way I want!" and I say, "Will NOT! Come along, My Boyfriend Peyton Manning!" and we leave.
Except my bracelet gets caught on the door handle and I can't get it off without really loudly rattling the door handle. My Boyfriend Peyton Manning promises to buy me a new bracelet if I'll leave this one behiind. I agree to this plan. Then I wake up.
***Dialog not accurately represented. It was all very much more intense and menacing, but this conveys the general point.
Moral: My Boyfriend Peyton Manning is buying me a bracelet. And possibly a new paper shredder.
I had a fabulous time, and did LOTS of talking. (And, for me, LOTS of drinking, but that was fun, too!) Then, there was music, which I will talk more about later. (I know, shocking, right?)
Then I came home and talked to the dave and then I fell asleep where I had My Dream:
So last night I had a dream where Me and The Dave come home, but there's some jerkface in a fancy penismobile parked in my spot. So I say, "Hey! What are you doing in my spot?" and he's all "I can park anywhere I want!" and I'm all, "Nu-uh! This is my spot, MOVE!" and he's all, "I'm intimidated! I'll move right now!" Because clearly I am badass.
So I get back in my car, and instead of just pulling into my spot, I have to drive down the street. Which I do. And who should I run into (not literally, that would be a different dream.) but My Boyfriend Peyton Manning! Who is going through people's garbage and taking their junk mail. His big plan is then to go door to door and sell their junk mail back to them after pointing out the dangers of identity theft. (He also has purchased much stock in a shredder company, but this is inside knowledge I have, not something that is known by the public at large. )
So we're standing at the side of the road, chatting, me with my little hot-wheels looking grey Hyundai, him with his orange and green rusted out Dodge Dart (?) and the cops show up. It's Jackie-From-Roseanne as the one cop, and the blonde girl from Criminal Minds as the other cop. (Guess what I watched yesterday. Go on, guess.) Blonde girl cop says, "You can't talk here! I can arrest you!" and I say, "No you can't! We're at the side of the road, we're not blocking traffic or anything." and she says, "I can TOTALLY arrest you!" and I say, "Not if you can't catch us! Come on, My Boyfriend Peyton Manning!" and we jump into our respective cars. I am a badass criminal GENIUS.
Through the subtle use of hand-signals, I take My Boyfriend Peyton Manning to my mom's school. What better place to hide from the cops than a middle school that is in reality 600 miles away, I ask you. So me and My Boyfriend Peyton Manning go to my mom's classroom, but she's not there. So obviously, it is my job to entertain the students until her return. My Boyfriend Peyton Manning shows some of the students stuff about football involving lots of Xs and Os and a whiteboard. I, on the other hand, had the students put their MP3 players on shuffle and told them all who had decent taste in music. Very few eighth graders who live in my head have decent taste in music. Some of them REALLY like The Used, though, so that's okay.
Then, a guy in a lame ugly brown suit comes in and is all, "I'm the teacher now! Shut up and sit down and blah blah blah!" so I say, "Hey, where's my mom?" and he says, "I said sit down and shut up!" and I say, "I am not your student, don't talk to me like that!" and he says, "I'll talk to you any way I want!" and I say, "Will NOT! Come along, My Boyfriend Peyton Manning!" and we leave.
Except my bracelet gets caught on the door handle and I can't get it off without really loudly rattling the door handle. My Boyfriend Peyton Manning promises to buy me a new bracelet if I'll leave this one behiind. I agree to this plan. Then I wake up.
***Dialog not accurately represented. It was all very much more intense and menacing, but this conveys the general point.
Moral: My Boyfriend Peyton Manning is buying me a bracelet. And possibly a new paper shredder.