Though I would have appreciated some notice about my job disappearing, it’s really not that bad. For a plethora of reasons I won’t bore you with, I am relieved not to have to go there anymore. I am excited to find a new job and grateful to have some time off. Tomorrow was supposed to be my due date and I’m happy not to be suffering through a workday pretending I’m OK. Instead, I’m going to hang out with my niece and we’ll pay a visit to my grandma’s house.

Mike and I have a new addition to our home: his kitty, Mister X! X was left behind with his ex because of a shitload of reasons that aren’t worth going into. So a few weeks ago we heard that Mister X wasn’t doing well: unable to keep food down, having accidents everywhere, losing weight at an alarming rate, and needing to be put to sleep. When Mister X came last Saturday we feared it would be for a 72 hour goodbye before he was going to be put to sleep. But he hasn’t thrown up or had a single accident here and does not act like an animal that needs to die within 72 hours, which leads me to believe maybe he just hated the husband’s ex. HA! Isn’t he a cutie? It’s been really nice having a fuzzy new friend around…I don’t even mind sharing my pillow with him.

Last week we celebrated Mike’s 30th birthday. We went to his cabin and watched a gorgeous meteor shower. It was nice to get away from the city, even though it was just for a bit. And I made him a nerdy cross stitch sampler. I had such a good time I think I’ll start some new embroidery projects with all of my extra time.

She also sent pretty much the best birthday card ever. If only it really came with a tampon holder knitting pattern!

Sonja is also a recovering Mormon and we share a fascination and repulsion for our family histories (polygamy). I am so excited to start reading “The 19th Wife,” a polygamist murder mystery novel!

And last, but certainly not least, she sent me delicious wine from Boa Ventura Vineyard. Shh! Don’t tell anyone I’m currently enjoying a delicious glass of contraband wine. It goes perfectly with the spicy Italian sausage tomato sauce I threw over brown rice fusilli pasta from Trader Joe’s. NOM!

Some people think your (actual) birthday determines the next year. If I’d known that, I would have spent my birthday a little differently. It wasn’t BAD, per say, just nothing I care to repeat for an entire year. The Cliffs Notes version of my birthday…

·         Spent most of the day in bed watching a Law & Order marathon, in deep procrastination.

·         Had dinner with my family.

·         Watched my mother try and con us into burning an old flag because it was the “respectful” thing to do. HOLY WHAT THE FUCK?! There are SO many things that are wrong with this…but let’s start with the fact that flags don’t freaking burn: they are fire retardant. To accomplish such a “respectful” task, an old flag requires soaking in lighter fluid (or some such bullshit) beforehand. My mother skipped this step in favor of lighters and candles. The only substantial outcome, other than a polyester fume high and a few small burnt spots (on the flag), was my poor sister having a piece of polyester burnt into her skin. (That’s what you get for trying to help your mother!)

·         Started writing my paper around 9:30PM.

·         Received a phone call from the guy I was seeing around 10:00PM, who I later discovered, just wasn’t that into me.

You can bet your sweet ass I’ll not be procrastinating on my next birthday or burning ANYTHING with my family. I will be having the best day ever. It will include being totally on top of my school work and lots of awesome sex with a man (not a boy, or guy) who respects me and worships the fucking ground I walk on. I am over the year of procrastination and boys who don’t measure up.

Steph collects cookie jars so I was extremely excited when I found her THE COOLEST COOKIE JAR ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH. It’s too fucking awesome to ship it because I would literally die if it were hurt in the process. So Stephanie will have this picture to get excited about until I’m able to deliver it in person.

Super Happy Birthday wishes Stephanie. Love you madly, hope the next month goes by quickly!!! xoxo

I do not advise attempting homework after drinking Budlight.

However, eating a giant rice krispy treat is advisable. But not if you’re going to eat an entire pizza, half of a pie, countless Fun Size Almond Joys or sip a large Sprite through a handful of Sour Punch Straws that you devour once they’ve turned into a gooey mess.

Finding websites for your friends to turn into dating whores is fun.

I couldn’t decide if this evil eye was protecting or harming occupants of the small coffee shop bathroom.

Cute little temple stickers are awesome prizes for piñatas. I strongly suggest wearing one on your cardigan sweater before going into the state owned liquor and freaking out when you see your favorite beer.

My friend’s mom called her privates her Secret Treasures.

I couldn’t get that damn “Secret Lovers” song out of my mind, only the lyrics were about Secret Treasures.

I still can’t decide which is worse: booze hangover or food hangover. I guess I’ll have to drink too much soon for proper comparison. If I play my cards right I can probably blame a boozy hangover on Aaron. Since he made me eat all sorts of food for him, I’m sure he’d find plenty of high calorie cocktails for me to consume for him too. You know, cause that’s what friends are for and shit.

I knew I was with the right bunch when I got reprimanded for making people’s faces and tummies hurt from excessive laughter.

I don’t normally watch the local news because it’s depressing and dumb. Case in point: the weather report. I accidentally found myself reading the subtitles at the gym while Law & Order was on a commercial break. “The air is considered unhealthy.” Bleah! As if I couldn’t gauge the air quality from barfing up a lung this morning on my way to work. Living here has probably undone any positive health benefits I’ve reaped during the year since I quit smoking cigarettes. So I’m considering starting up again.

This week’s weather forecast shows 40s, mostly clear, lung busting air quality shit, with snow on Sunday, my birthday. The weather reporter’s exact words were “organized storm.” I have something he can organize; MY VAGINA. It’d be awesome not to have to shovel the fucking driveway before Sunday brunch.