Your call is important to us, just not to me, specifically.
So, apparently it's someone's birthday today? Gee, judging by my f-list/email inbox/text inbox/answering machine/facebook/LJ inbox/post box, I never would've guessed. *giggles* You guys rock so hard.... I love you all. I don't say that often enough. Not nearly enough. *group hugs her f-list*
And harlowbabe , seriously, what level of Canada Post employee do you have to sleep with to accomplish that kind of timing? Sheesh. XD
So, today. Doing the work of someone three pay grades above me all day? Check. At least it kept me busy, though, and I was given Tim Horton's and white chocolate pretzels at work, though, so yeah, I can't bitch about working too much, LOL! My coworkers are actually pretty good folk. I didn't even tell them it was my birthday, but J knew somehow, and so when she walked in she went (excessively loudly, in typical J fashion, LOL!) "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWITCHBOARD!!!" I haven't been hugged by that many people simultaneously in a long while. And I got my silver pin for opening 100 new accounts last term, which is kind of fun. Shiny objects yaaaaay! ;)
The Stilettoes are supposed to be coming here on Fri for a bbq sort of a shindig, just the five of us, in celebration of yours truly being awesome. And also having a birthday, but mostly just so they can bask in my glow. Not gonna lie, there's a lot of glow, plenty of basking room. Feel free to join us. Burgers, hot dogs and cake on the patio, dancing barefoot on my front lawn, decent music that *I* pick out, raspberry vodka, GOOD beer (none of that buck-a-beer swill for this princess, no sir!) maybe a drive-in movie in the party-on-wheels aka my truck? You know you waaaaanna. ;) Nic texted me to say she'd love to come but doesn't know if she can. I told her we could try to reschedule around her, and she said she doesn't think she'll come either way. I went "WTF?" and wondered what the hell was up with her, since she has no reason whatsoever to be pissed at me, and she texts me back that she doesn't know if she wants to be seen partying with old people. Haha. Very funny. On a related note, I've decided I'm not going to be freaked out about it. I can be cool with this. I wouldn't really want to be a teenager for the rest of my life anyways.
I got out of having lunch with Dad's business partner and his wife at the club in Bronte tomorrow, thank god. Country club goers just don't seem to appreciate my dazzling wit and stellar personality, it seems. I'm really quite the sparkling conversationalist, you know. Especially if the conversation is about, say, the benefits of frozen semen on a large scale Quarter Horse breeding operation, rear wheel torque comparisons in half ton pickup trucks by make and model, what the Conservative party is doing wrong, or Bette Midler's legs. I'll take "Topics That Never Come Up At Country Club Luncheons" for five hundred and forty gazillion, Alec. That's safe money. Anyways. The only parts of those things I ever enjoy are the shrimp and mimosas. Hello, rich people excuse for getting drunk before 10! If you're poor and you do that, you're just a drunk. You're rich and you do that, you're polished. Go figure. Anyways. Now I just have to get out of my coffee meet-up with S... why do some people not get the hint? He caught me totally off guard, and now I'm screwed, I have to go, or look like an utter and complete bitch. And he's not THAT bad, I guess, but after a certain point his personality makes me want to smack him. And that's coming from a card carrying member of the Liberal party, so my tolerance of preachiness is more well honed than most. I mean, have you listened to our guys? ;D
Random topic jump: Richard Schiff plays every child-youth worker in every movie ever. Martian Child. I am Sam. Something-else-that-slipped-my-mind-as-soon-as-I-went-to-type-it.
My parents went BEYOND overboard on my birthday this year; it's ridiculous. On top of Winston, who is still much beloved, I also got the new Tragically Hip album (*freaks out*), new work boots, and for-Miss-Abigail-and-me-by-extension, new halter, lunge line, slinkie hood and bell boots.... I just asked them to pick up a lunge line for me 'cause mine broke, and I was intending to pay them back! Why were they at a tack store, you might ask? Well, because it's in the same town as the amaaaaaaazing rib joint where they went to get me the ribs I'd been craving all week. Plus mum made (by special request, LOL!) the sinfully amazing no-bake blueberry cheesecake.... *is ded of noms*
And I figured the radio gods were just shining on me; windows down, playing Van Morrison, American Woman, U2's "Beautiful Day"... Turns out somebody might've called into somebody's fave radio station and requested a superset for her half hour drive home slot as a wee surprise for said person's birthday. Awwwwww. "I gotta get me some rubber boots, 'cause I'm a happy camper!" Nobody's gonna get that, but what-to-the-evs. It's making me giggle.
Also, I don't know if I've ever mentioned this on this journal, but there's this show that was on a few years ago, you can still catch it on reruns sometimes, about these people who work for this politician guy? Anyways. It's not half bad. ;) In related news, my parents actually STAYED UP to watch "The Short List" with me... guess who got somebody else hooked on the junk? Yessir, we dealers are targeting the senior citizens, now.
Now I'm gonna go curl up in bed with Bette Midler on the cover of the magazine Donna sent me. My heart's still beating, I have a great family and great friends, our miracle boy is home with his mum & dad, I have an amazing horse that's saved my life more than once, I'm reasonably intelligent, moderately attractive, and really, quite content. And feeling a little more ready to start looking ahead and stop being so damn hung up on what I can't change. Before I turn 21, I'd like to tone up a little more physically (I'm not as strong or fit as I used to be, and that's kind of annoying in my world), write more, let the people around me know I appreciate them a little more, learn to play poker, and replace the door on my truck. A bizarre list, perhaps, but a guideline nonetheless. ;D
P.S. Considering our drive to New York and the less-than-ideal timeframe/circustances we were working with, I think we did pretty well. I think it is a good jumping off point to start planning a trip to Vegas. Goddamnit if I will live my life without having seen the Divine live in concert at least ONCE. Chances of this happening? Admittedly slim. Chances of my poor, heavily abused truck making it to Vegas without overheating and stranding us on a roadside? Significantly slimmer. Chances of me doing my damnedest to attempt it anyways? Fat as a Christmas fucking ham, baby. ;D
P.S.S. Why is there not a broadway musical of The First Wives' Club? I demand an explanation, world. I really do.
P.S.S.S. Did I mention I have to stop texting when I ride? I don't do it very often, but last night I got a text from Donna and Abbey stopped as soon as the little badoopboop went off. XD Now if cars did that, we'd have way fewer accidents....
THIS JUST IN: LIFE > THE ALTERNATIVE. New ell-jay tag yes I think so.
And harlowbabe , seriously, what level of Canada Post employee do you have to sleep with to accomplish that kind of timing? Sheesh. XD
So, today. Doing the work of someone three pay grades above me all day? Check. At least it kept me busy, though, and I was given Tim Horton's and white chocolate pretzels at work, though, so yeah, I can't bitch about working too much, LOL! My coworkers are actually pretty good folk. I didn't even tell them it was my birthday, but J knew somehow, and so when she walked in she went (excessively loudly, in typical J fashion, LOL!) "HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWITCHBOARD!!!" I haven't been hugged by that many people simultaneously in a long while. And I got my silver pin for opening 100 new accounts last term, which is kind of fun. Shiny objects yaaaaay! ;)
The Stilettoes are supposed to be coming here on Fri for a bbq sort of a shindig, just the five of us, in celebration of yours truly being awesome. And also having a birthday, but mostly just so they can bask in my glow. Not gonna lie, there's a lot of glow, plenty of basking room. Feel free to join us. Burgers, hot dogs and cake on the patio, dancing barefoot on my front lawn, decent music that *I* pick out, raspberry vodka, GOOD beer (none of that buck-a-beer swill for this princess, no sir!) maybe a drive-in movie in the party-on-wheels aka my truck? You know you waaaaanna. ;) Nic texted me to say she'd love to come but doesn't know if she can. I told her we could try to reschedule around her, and she said she doesn't think she'll come either way. I went "WTF?" and wondered what the hell was up with her, since she has no reason whatsoever to be pissed at me, and she texts me back that she doesn't know if she wants to be seen partying with old people. Haha. Very funny. On a related note, I've decided I'm not going to be freaked out about it. I can be cool with this. I wouldn't really want to be a teenager for the rest of my life anyways.
I got out of having lunch with Dad's business partner and his wife at the club in Bronte tomorrow, thank god. Country club goers just don't seem to appreciate my dazzling wit and stellar personality, it seems. I'm really quite the sparkling conversationalist, you know. Especially if the conversation is about, say, the benefits of frozen semen on a large scale Quarter Horse breeding operation, rear wheel torque comparisons in half ton pickup trucks by make and model, what the Conservative party is doing wrong, or Bette Midler's legs. I'll take "Topics That Never Come Up At Country Club Luncheons" for five hundred and forty gazillion, Alec. That's safe money. Anyways. The only parts of those things I ever enjoy are the shrimp and mimosas. Hello, rich people excuse for getting drunk before 10! If you're poor and you do that, you're just a drunk. You're rich and you do that, you're polished. Go figure. Anyways. Now I just have to get out of my coffee meet-up with S... why do some people not get the hint? He caught me totally off guard, and now I'm screwed, I have to go, or look like an utter and complete bitch. And he's not THAT bad, I guess, but after a certain point his personality makes me want to smack him. And that's coming from a card carrying member of the Liberal party, so my tolerance of preachiness is more well honed than most. I mean, have you listened to our guys? ;D
Random topic jump: Richard Schiff plays every child-youth worker in every movie ever. Martian Child. I am Sam. Something-else-that-slipped-my-mind-as-soon-as-I-went-to-type-it.
My parents went BEYOND overboard on my birthday this year; it's ridiculous. On top of Winston, who is still much beloved, I also got the new Tragically Hip album (*freaks out*), new work boots, and for-Miss-Abigail-and-me-by-extension, new halter, lunge line, slinkie hood and bell boots.... I just asked them to pick up a lunge line for me 'cause mine broke, and I was intending to pay them back! Why were they at a tack store, you might ask? Well, because it's in the same town as the amaaaaaaazing rib joint where they went to get me the ribs I'd been craving all week. Plus mum made (by special request, LOL!) the sinfully amazing no-bake blueberry cheesecake.... *is ded of noms*
And I figured the radio gods were just shining on me; windows down, playing Van Morrison, American Woman, U2's "Beautiful Day"... Turns out somebody might've called into somebody's fave radio station and requested a superset for her half hour drive home slot as a wee surprise for said person's birthday. Awwwwww. "I gotta get me some rubber boots, 'cause I'm a happy camper!" Nobody's gonna get that, but what-to-the-evs. It's making me giggle.
Also, I don't know if I've ever mentioned this on this journal, but there's this show that was on a few years ago, you can still catch it on reruns sometimes, about these people who work for this politician guy? Anyways. It's not half bad. ;) In related news, my parents actually STAYED UP to watch "The Short List" with me... guess who got somebody else hooked on the junk? Yessir, we dealers are targeting the senior citizens, now.
Now I'm gonna go curl up in bed with Bette Midler on the cover of the magazine Donna sent me. My heart's still beating, I have a great family and great friends, our miracle boy is home with his mum & dad, I have an amazing horse that's saved my life more than once, I'm reasonably intelligent, moderately attractive, and really, quite content. And feeling a little more ready to start looking ahead and stop being so damn hung up on what I can't change. Before I turn 21, I'd like to tone up a little more physically (I'm not as strong or fit as I used to be, and that's kind of annoying in my world), write more, let the people around me know I appreciate them a little more, learn to play poker, and replace the door on my truck. A bizarre list, perhaps, but a guideline nonetheless. ;D
P.S. Considering our drive to New York and the less-than-ideal timeframe/circustances we were working with, I think we did pretty well. I think it is a good jumping off point to start planning a trip to Vegas. Goddamnit if I will live my life without having seen the Divine live in concert at least ONCE. Chances of this happening? Admittedly slim. Chances of my poor, heavily abused truck making it to Vegas without overheating and stranding us on a roadside? Significantly slimmer. Chances of me doing my damnedest to attempt it anyways? Fat as a Christmas fucking ham, baby. ;D
P.S.S. Why is there not a broadway musical of The First Wives' Club? I demand an explanation, world. I really do.
P.S.S.S. Did I mention I have to stop texting when I ride? I don't do it very often, but last night I got a text from Donna and Abbey stopped as soon as the little badoopboop went off. XD Now if cars did that, we'd have way fewer accidents....
THIS JUST IN: LIFE > THE ALTERNATIVE. New ell-jay tag yes I think so.