(no subject)
So my ex-manager is moving back to Iowa. WHO THE HELL MOVES *BACK* TO IOWA? That's worse than Pennsylvania. Good thing about this is that we all went to the Blue Wave tonight. It's a bar across the street from my office in South Boston - about a block from the Children's Meuseum - want to be known for their martinities. So I have an Apple martini. Not very good. Then I order a Cosmo along with my friend, Denise. It's STRONG. So much so that she can't drink hers. So what does she do with it, you ask? She gives it to me. Guess where I am now? Well, actually, I'm in my kitchen, drinking a bottle of Chardonnay (I just had to look at the bottle to figure out how to spell that) and waiting for Al to come home. Poker, bah! Your wife is drunk off her ass. Why are you wasting this opportunity?
I'm actually to the point that I'm wondering if posting is really a good idea. You all know this point. The point where your sub-conscience is still talking to you - but you are seriously wondering if your sub-conscience ever lets its hair down. Come on! There is nothing wrong with getting shit-faces around your co-workers every once in a while. It lets them know that you are real.
I kissed the VP of Stratigic Accounts on the cheek tonight. He's as much of a ginzo as my husband, and as I was leaving, I stopped to thank him for the night out and he offered his cheek, ginzo fashion (is that how you spell ginzo? I've never written it before) and I kissed him like a true pseudo-ginzo. Is that wrong? Hey, he just gave me a really good glass of a Shiraz - I wish I remembered the name of it. And we had a very good conversation pre-shiraz about wines. He agrees with my educated opinion that a good bottle of wine doesn't have to cost more that 10 or 12 dollars to be good. Surprising coming from someone who makes more money than I can comprehend.
Yeah, so I decided that I would share my drunken ramblings with you innocent people. You can''t understand how difficult it is for a perfectionist to type while they are drunk. I'm really worried about whether or not my typing is sub-par. I hate typos.
You know all those old stereotypes that show drunks as hiccuping? It's true. I can't stop hiccupping. Do you know how difficult it is to type while you are hiccupping? It's hard.
Where is Dave Wilson when you need him? I wish Dave was here. He'd be keeping up with me. For that matter, so would Tracy, Stacey, and Gina. Where are these people when I need them?
Oh, yeah. They are grown-ups and being responsible, with their jobs and children and families. Oh, well.
Wow, holding your breath really gets rid of hiccups. Who would have known?
OK, I'm going to go now before I type something that I regret. Have an excellent night, everyone!
I'm actually to the point that I'm wondering if posting is really a good idea. You all know this point. The point where your sub-conscience is still talking to you - but you are seriously wondering if your sub-conscience ever lets its hair down. Come on! There is nothing wrong with getting shit-faces around your co-workers every once in a while. It lets them know that you are real.
I kissed the VP of Stratigic Accounts on the cheek tonight. He's as much of a ginzo as my husband, and as I was leaving, I stopped to thank him for the night out and he offered his cheek, ginzo fashion (is that how you spell ginzo? I've never written it before) and I kissed him like a true pseudo-ginzo. Is that wrong? Hey, he just gave me a really good glass of a Shiraz - I wish I remembered the name of it. And we had a very good conversation pre-shiraz about wines. He agrees with my educated opinion that a good bottle of wine doesn't have to cost more that 10 or 12 dollars to be good. Surprising coming from someone who makes more money than I can comprehend.
Yeah, so I decided that I would share my drunken ramblings with you innocent people. You can''t understand how difficult it is for a perfectionist to type while they are drunk. I'm really worried about whether or not my typing is sub-par. I hate typos.
You know all those old stereotypes that show drunks as hiccuping? It's true. I can't stop hiccupping. Do you know how difficult it is to type while you are hiccupping? It's hard.
Where is Dave Wilson when you need him? I wish Dave was here. He'd be keeping up with me. For that matter, so would Tracy, Stacey, and Gina. Where are these people when I need them?
Oh, yeah. They are grown-ups and being responsible, with their jobs and children and families. Oh, well.
Wow, holding your breath really gets rid of hiccups. Who would have known?
OK, I'm going to go now before I type something that I regret. Have an excellent night, everyone!