I Probably Shouldn't be Wearing a See Through T-Shirt at School When it's 30 Degrees. Oops.
I've come to the conclusion that I never have and never will be able to keep up with my friends pages over the weekends (and yes, naysayers, I do read during the week). So if you have some life altering event I should know about, please refrain from doing it between Thursday and Monday night. Thank you, Management.
I finally rejoined the work force this weekend, though my evil manipulative phone voice is being used for the power of good and no longer evil - I'm fundraising for several non-profit organizations such as the Democratic National Committee, the Sierra Club (an environmentalist group), the ASPCA, public radio and television, and a free HIV/AIDS clinic in DC. So I no longer have to feel guilty every night coming home knowing I duped some old lady out of her cash for a credit card - now I just dupe her out of cash so that Bert and Ernie can continue to be life partners together uninterrupted by commercials. Tear.
In between training and being on the phones, I did what I usually do best and that's be right at the center of drama. After the debacle Thursday night, I made the mistake of answering the phone when Joe called. He said he wanted to apologize in person and wanted to meet me along with Mica and Ron for dinner. I figured the walk down a few blocks wasn't too far and besides we'd be among friends. What was supposed to be dinner turned into one of our famous to busy partying to actually eat evenings and ended in the inevitable Joe and Amy fight topped off with him screaming the usual insults at me. I turned to walk away and lost him in the crowd on E. Carson.
I had almost made it to the Birmingham Bridge when my phone rang and I didn't recognize the number. I stopped in front of Casey's to answer it and of course it was him. I screamed into the pretty little pink phone "NO ONE CALLS ME A CUNT!" and proceeded to throw it onto Carson St.
Phone insurance, god bless you.
A group of guys who'd been standing outside of Casey's had their jaws open in disbelief after watching all this transpire and offered to buy me a few drinks. I ended up hanging out with them all night and having a great time, even after hours had closed and we watched SportsCenter on what is the largest television I have ever seen.
Sunday can be summed up with this quote - (on the subject of Mad Dog 20/20)"I don't care if the label does say 'wine' we're not getting out the glasses. Hand me that dixie cup"
No plans for tonight yet, but with morning classes cancelled for the week it's inevitably going to be spent in the most debaucherous of ways.
I finally rejoined the work force this weekend, though my evil manipulative phone voice is being used for the power of good and no longer evil - I'm fundraising for several non-profit organizations such as the Democratic National Committee, the Sierra Club (an environmentalist group), the ASPCA, public radio and television, and a free HIV/AIDS clinic in DC. So I no longer have to feel guilty every night coming home knowing I duped some old lady out of her cash for a credit card - now I just dupe her out of cash so that Bert and Ernie can continue to be life partners together uninterrupted by commercials. Tear.
In between training and being on the phones, I did what I usually do best and that's be right at the center of drama. After the debacle Thursday night, I made the mistake of answering the phone when Joe called. He said he wanted to apologize in person and wanted to meet me along with Mica and Ron for dinner. I figured the walk down a few blocks wasn't too far and besides we'd be among friends. What was supposed to be dinner turned into one of our famous to busy partying to actually eat evenings and ended in the inevitable Joe and Amy fight topped off with him screaming the usual insults at me. I turned to walk away and lost him in the crowd on E. Carson.
I had almost made it to the Birmingham Bridge when my phone rang and I didn't recognize the number. I stopped in front of Casey's to answer it and of course it was him. I screamed into the pretty little pink phone "NO ONE CALLS ME A CUNT!" and proceeded to throw it onto Carson St.
Phone insurance, god bless you.
A group of guys who'd been standing outside of Casey's had their jaws open in disbelief after watching all this transpire and offered to buy me a few drinks. I ended up hanging out with them all night and having a great time, even after hours had closed and we watched SportsCenter on what is the largest television I have ever seen.
Sunday can be summed up with this quote - (on the subject of Mad Dog 20/20)"I don't care if the label does say 'wine' we're not getting out the glasses. Hand me that dixie cup"
No plans for tonight yet, but with morning classes cancelled for the week it's inevitably going to be spent in the most debaucherous of ways.