Epiphanies At Midnight.

Wanna know what I realized tonight?

I like to eat Triscuits in bed.

And whoever I marry is just going to have to deal with it.

"Everyone keeps telling me you're something that you're not..."

So in case some you think that I'm ignoring you by not responding to comments or emails, I just wanna say...I'm not. Work has been really action-packed these past couple of days - as in, crisis action-packed, and/or 16-hour days action-packed - and it hath suckedth thy big one. Plus I did this new strength workout thing the other night, and dudes, I am sore. As in, I walk like an old lady and sit down/stand up like a pregnant lady sore. So you should probably feel sorry for me, and if you wanna send me some chocolates or flowers or free sammiches, that would be okay, too.

The thing with the workout thing is that I'm trying to be consistent while at the same time stave off workout boredom. I'm also a little sheepish about talking about it, because I don't want to be that person that people meet and think "I thought she worked out all the time?!" I have become a little frustrated with the bod, and if it weren't for the new definition on my biceps that I am now fond of flexing and kissing at various points throughout the day, I think a treadmill would become the victim of my rage (And no, saying that does not mean I want any fitness or health advice - you know who you are - so save it. If you comment anything about how I should do this or do that, I will give you a verbal roundhouse kick to the face.)

So, long story short, I'm still plugging away at the gym almost every day I can, but with the long work days, it leaves me little time for blogging or emailing or trolling MySpace pages for people I used to hate in high school. Thus, think of this as a mass "sorry, dudes" to all the people I've neglected in recent days. Tomorrow is my last long day for a while, and after that I should have some more time to waste on the internet.

So hold tight. Stay warm tonight. Just think of me, alright? I'll be back when I can, to show you the master plan. You're in my heart, man. I'm your biggest fan. But if you don't like my sweet rhyming, I don't really give a damn.

Wham!

"I really wouldn't know where else you might go..."

Today is one of those days when I'm in need of some interaction. I've found myself on my favorite message boards, just waiting for someone to log in. I need to communicate, I need to banter, I need to be interested in something outside of myself. The blogs just don't seem to cut it today.

There are a couple of message boards that I used to haunt daily. If I had a day off, I would spend it with a box of Krispy Kremes, hot coffee, and the message boards. The message boards I tended to frequent weren't the usual empty banter ones...I could actually learn something by being on there, so I didn't feel like I was wasting my day away.

So naturally, today when I'm in the mood for it again, one of my message boards is down and the other one is kinda dead. I know there are some of you lameo's out there who are gonna be all "It's beautiful out! They're probably all out enjoying the day...you should be, too!" But I don't wanna be out enjoying the beautiful day. I wanna be inside, drinking hot coffee, eating my free microwave popcorn that I scored from work (the fact that my diet now consists of microwave popcorn because I get it free from work is a subject we might be discussing later), and bantering back and forth on a message board.

God dammit. Why can't everyone just cooperate when I want something?

Cha-cha-cha-changes...

I will go more into depth later, but I felt bad that I said I would give more dish "tomorrow" and here it is, early Saturday...so I'll give the basic details and write more about it at a later date.

I was offered a behavioral therapist position at a clinic. I accepted. I start mid-September. We will talk about this more latas.

I am moving from south Minneapolis to north Minneapolis. So instead of being in close proximity to Chatterbox and Matt's, I will be in close proximity to Psycho Suzi's. The dish on this one is kind of fun, but it will also have to come latas as I need to get the go-ahead from my future roomie to divulge some key details.

So that's the dish. It's approx. 4 am on Saturday morning, and I work at 1 pm, so I must be off. Such is the life of a swinging poor working girl.

But not for long...

Ooh...it's a teaser!

I'm moving.

And I also got a new job.

More details to come tomorrow.

Attachment.

I miss you. And I'm jealous when I think of you being with someone else. Still. Still I feel this way, and I don't know why.

There are various attachment theories, but only one that I can think of makes sense. Either I develop a sense of atttachment that is extremely deep, or I fail to develop any at all and can walk away with the drop of a hat (or an ill-advised word). I have alternately loved and hated this trait.

The other evening I watched a movie where this song plays and it becomes evident that this person has been in love with her his entire life. I recline on my bed and wonder how it is that someone can love someone that long without recieving any reciprocation. I shouldn't even have to ask that question. To love without knowing how, or why, or when you started...after a while it just becomes something that you do, becomes ingrained into the very fiber of your being. My name is Amber, I live in Minneapolis, I counsel for a living, and I'm in love with you. It's a part of my identity.

Oh my god. I love it...

Headline on MSN Today -

"Grim Warning from Hurricane Chief: 'Megadisaster' worse than Katrina will hit U.S. someday, expert says."

I love the inclusion of "someday" in that prediction. "Someday" we'll have a megadisaster. "Someday" we're all going to suffer from a hurricane. "Someday" we're all gonna die!

As if this gloom-and-doom title wasn't enough, you have to read the article. It is hee-laaar-ious the way that author of it tries to strike fear into our hearts and make disaster - maybe not a "year, or five years from now, or a hundred years from now" - this huge, pertinent thing we all need to be aware of. And this Chief just keeps going with it..."One of these days, it's going to happen."

It sure will. Just like how one of these days, my parents are going right into the nursing home. Maybe not today, maybe not five years from now, maybe not twenty years from now, but they're going. It's gonna happen someday. Someday they're going to get too old to take of themselves, and I know my older brother is gonna try to make me take care of them, and I know my younger brother will still be too busy drinkin' and smokin' it up to take care of them, so the disaster will fall on me. And what am I gonna do? Ship 'em right off to Sunny Oaks Old Folks Home. Well, maybe not that particular place...come to think of it, I should probably start preparing for this. Preparation is the key. I should start researching facilities, maybe start asking my parents to begin packing up their stuff and have it in a convienent place for easy access, and I could probably start putting down payments on their rooms there, maybe slip a few forties to some of the staff to make sure they take extra-special care of my mommy and daddy, you know, things like that.

The Chief warned me to be prepared. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to be caught with my parents living in my guest bedroom. So thanks, Chief. And thank you, Reuters Limited.

Lost. Forlorn. Bereft.

Hippo and Redirt have both left me. Redirt shut down his blog and has not commented for days. Hippo has shut down his blog and has not commented for days.

Why do the people I love always leave me? Is it because they know they are not good enough for my love?

In this case, I believe the answer is...yes.



Come back, Hippo...

Come back, Redirt...

Come back, Jem and The Holograms...

Why isn't everyone else sick of Jessica Simpson, too, like me?

Why are they still asking her to host crap, like the Teen Choice Awards? Don't they understand that her only true appeal was in our birds-eye view of her being a young wifey? And now that that's over, she should have the dignity to fall away from the spotlight.

For my sake, at least.

HEY EVERYBODY! Come see how cute my brother looks!

This is actually back when I didn't like him, because he stole all the attention from moi.

Whatever. When you're the baby of the family for ten years, let's see how good you feel when a real baby comes along.

***Note - So apparently MySpace is being a dick and won't let you look at the pictures unless you log in - or at least some people have told me from their emails. So for your viewing pleasure, I'll just post 'em here. Kind of ruins the effect, but whatev.
















Now see how cute I look.












(You didn't really expect that I would write a whole post about someone else, did you?!)

Me so tired...

Meetings.

Floods.

Restraints.

Shitty food.

Reports.

All of that makes for a very long 14-hour shift.

I didn't even go work out tonight, even though the new-found definition - I'm finally starting to get that little balloon on my bicep when I flex! - kept tempting me to tell my exhaustion to fuck off. Instead I came home with the intention of replying to comments, answering e-mails, maybe doing some piddily relaxing stuff.

But I'm too tired.

And I have to get up and do it all again tomorrow.

So instead, I'm going to sleepy time.

Plus this post is fucking boring.

So, in the words of Hippo...bye bye.

I'll be your inspiration.

Proof positive that if you work hard enough at something, dreams really do come true.

Ah SNAP!

Randomosity of Awesomosity.

A little hit list of fun/cool/totally rad things I've experienced in the past couple of weeks -

1. I had sushi for the first time in my life two weeks ago. Sushi has always been one of those things that I knew I would love if I could only try it...not to be hatin', but northwest Wisconsin was not exactly overpopulated with sushi spots. I did have vegetarian sushi once but it was disgusting, as is everything else that is vegetarian.

2. Rich, who brought me to Origami for my first sushi experience, also taught me how to eat with chopsticks. Eating with chopsticks has been right up there with my early-in-life obsession of snapping my fingers. From the age of 2 to the age of 9, I was obsessed with learning how to snap my fingers.



















See? Then I finally mastered the snapping art when I was 9, and now at 27 I have finally become an eating-with-chopsticks fool. Which I'm supa excited about.

3. I have a job interview this week. For some reason, behavioral therapy just won't let me out of its' sights. I'm a little tempted to say that I think the universe/God is trying to tell me something, but instead I'll just say that we'll see what happens.

4. Summer school is OVA! WHOOP! Yet I'm sad. I find myself thinking "I'm in the mood to study", looking around for my textbook, and then realizing that I don't have class for another two or three weeks. Count on me to suddenly feel a resurge of dedication to my studies only after my semester is over.

5. Saturday night Rich and I went to 7th Street Entry to see The Alarmists play. Stellar show. Word to the wise, the keyboarder gets into it. Either he has a passionate love for his music, or he's epileptic and playing the tambourine sets him off.

6. The Man-Ban is still in full swing.

Inner voices are rad.

So I'm sitting here, wasting time on the internet. It's late, and I've got to get up early tomorrow for a 14-hour shift.

Earlier today, I took a test for a class. For this class, you can take a test twice (it's online) to account for any errors there might be in the test. So I took the test this afternoon, got a grade that I was pretty happy with. It wasn't perfect, but it was A-xcellent.

However, I planned on retaking it again tonight after giving myself a break. The reason I told myself I should retake it is because my grade is made up of cumulative points...so even though I already got an A, if I can get more points on the retake it means more insurance for my final grade (yes, I'm a nerdatron. You love it). With that decision settled, I embarked on my study break.

After that break turned into about, oh, four hours, I thought to myself "Why am I wasting time? Why aren't I being a conscientious student and retaking that test?"

To which my mind/id replied, "Because I don't feel like it, that's why."

I love me.

Can you hear the whisper?

Taken from the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, in one of the rooms displaying items of historical value.

('Tis my friend Michelles' EVP, recorded when she was in town from Britain.)

Man-Bans are bans on men.

So I'm on another Man-Ban.

I've been dating a lot lately...some of it has been fun, some of it has been lame. But I've started to realize that I'm just not in the mood for it right now...the thought of it wears me out. So I'm going on a Man-Ban to refocus, and become even more self-centered and introspective than usual.

Now, whenever I announce I'm going on a Man Ban, certain people in my life tend to roll their eyes and nod their heads, then ask me how long this one is going to last...a day, maybe? Perhaps a week? I don't have good luck with Man-Bans. Whenever my friends and I have reached the point of declaring a Man-Ban, we have found that Man-Bans seem to send out an irresistable radar to men, turning previously passive "friends" into persistent, passionate suitors. Which really pisses me off, actually.

But I really need to take that whole "I'm off the sauce" attitude right now. I've found that whenever you put yourself in the mindset that you're looking for someone, it sometimes tends to permeate every aspect of your life. Life is just a little too complicated right now for me to allow that to continue to happen. I've got shit to do. I'm busy.

So stop with all the constant calls for sex already.

Oh, and that reminds me -

So the other day I made a comment about going celibate for a year. It was just kind of something I threw out there without thinking about it.

But now I'm thinking about it.

It was an idea that seemed so ridiculous, so extreme...that it made me think. What if I did make a vow to remain celibate for a year? What would happen? Would I go crazy? Would my head explode and little tiny flames of sexual frustration shoot out my now-severed neck? Would I become more spiritual, more in tune to the rhythms of the moon?

And here's the gazillion-dollar question...could I do it?

It goes without saying that I'm a fan of sex. A big fan. I love to talk about it, think about it, learn about it, hear about it, and yes people, I even like to participate in it. A lot.

So if I'm already on a Man-Ban, why not up the ante and do this adventurous, crazy thing? I'm not under illusions here...I know nobody is going to come up to me and say "I think what you're doing is really great." I think the biggest reason why I'm even pondering it is because I don't know if I could really do it, or even if I really want to. It's a challenge unto myself. Who the fuck doesn't want to have sex for a year?

The one positive that I can think of - other than the bragging rights of being a crazy person - is that I wonder if being celibate for a year would be incredibly freeing. Not having sex for a year would equate not having to go look for sex for a year. And let's face it - sex takes up, what, about 90% of my thoughts? 40% of my efforts? I don't spend 10 min. shaving because I like the way it looks, people. And that bullshit about "Oh, I spend 50 dollars on Victoria's Secret underwear for me" is just not true. I'm addicted to Victoria's Secret because yes, they make amazing bras and it's fun to wear cute underwear, but it's mostly all about the implication of wearing it...that if someone chose to rip my clothes off that night, I would be prepared to assault their vision with flimsy lace splendor.

My only real worry is that it would be similiar to a diet...all of sudden, sex would be the elephant in the room. All I would think about is sex. All I would want to talk about is sex. I would moan and whine about not being able to have sex any time I was victim to something super hot and sultry on a TV screen or in a song. I would drive my friends insane. Oh...wait...that stuff already happens. No worry, then.

So I'm going to think about it for a while. The Man-Ban is officially declared, but the celibacy thing is still a ponderment until further notice.

But again, stop with all the constant calls for sex.

Fine. Go ahead and fucking leave. Like I really care.

Whatever, Redirt and Hippo. I mean, we've been blogging friends for a whole year, but like I said, whatever.

Seriously? I am in such a pissy, snarky mood today that I'm not even going to bother trying to talk you out of it. I honestly don't even care about it today...delete your fucking blogs, leave my life forever, take away the two places where I comment the most...while I'm at it, I should probably go on another Man Ban, maybe stay celibate for a year, and I've been thinking about going no-carb again.

Because that's just kind of how I feel today. And you're making it that much easier for me.

Buh-bye.

Flava FLAAAV!

Okay, so I like Flava Flav's show "Flavor of Love". When the show first came out, I thought to myself, "This is a show that I will make an effort not to watch." . Then I found out that my older brother loved it. I could totally see Kris love this show, and I could also see him constantly and purposefully annoy his girlfriend, Becky, by yelling "Flava FLAAAV!" every time he watches it. Which makes me laugh. So I started watching it.

And I like it. I do. It's so skanky and hilarious. The girls are CRAZY. While I am not personally attracted to Flava Flav, I do enjoy his perpetually sunny disposition.

And I fucking loved that they played "I Wanna Know What Love Is" by Foreigner for the "Flavor of Love 2" show promos.

But my favorite?

The gap-toothed white girl who says "I need a man who can hold me, and who can HOLD IT DOWN." Love it. LOOOOOVE it. I'm gonna be quoting her until I'm 50. I might even write it into my marriage vows, if I ever find someone I feel like marrying. But then, as if that wasn't cool enough, gap-toothed white girl continues, saying "You know what I'm sayin, you gotta be able to HOLD. IT. DOOWWNN." while she so eloquentely points to her vag. I don't know if she meant to gesture to the 'gina on purpose, but she did. Which is just so flippin' awesehm.

Yeah boyee.

You can't push me away forever, Anonymous.

At first, your words hurt. They stung. They wounded my soul. Why would someone be so mean to me? Why would a stranger, an anonymous person, want to make me feel badly about myself? What have I done to deserve this? While, admittedly, I am loved and adored worldwide, it is understandable that there might be someone out there who doesn't understand me. Doesn't get the Amberness. And that's okay. But you kept at it...you kept coming back, throwing in caustic barbs where they were not warrented.

So I tried to figure out what I should do. Should I ignore you? Should I block you? Maybe I should go toe-to-toe with you, since I know I would win. What should I do about you, Anonymous? This question plaqued me day and night.

And then it came to me.

You love me. You do. You do not know how yet to show it, so you try to deny your love for me through cruelty and mockery. I see right through your games, Anonymous. I know you're scared...I would be, too. Love can be a frightening thing. I know how intimidating I can seem at times...but it's not my fault that I am so awesehm. My inherent kewlness is not my doing. 'Tis something I was born with, that I cannot fight against. I know you know this, too. I know you are afraid of rejection, that you are threatened by the throes of people in love with me...but fear not, Anonymous. I understand. I love you, too. And I will keep telling you, keep trying to show you how much I love you, until you finally break down...until you finally drop that hard wall around your heart and are able to show the kind, tender fool that I know you are inside.

I love you, Anonymous. I love you.

Let me whisper it to you once again...I love you.

And finally, let me demonstrate it to you in the sign language I learned in the 10th grade: I. Love. You.

Rollar rinks seem to be enjoying a resurgence in popularity.

So check it -

Mutiny strikes the mothership.

Everyone on my beloved staff is either planning on or contemplating quitting. Clearly, something did not go well at the team meeting on Wednesday.

Basically, the politics are getting in the way of the reason why we're there - the kids - and that is starting to make me a bit miserable. While I've been trying to not let it get to me, I also have to admit that the barely-above-minimum-wage paycheck I get is starting to get me down. I'm not even a materialistic person (tho' I do loves me some Victoria's Secret), but when the ten bucks I budget for myself every day goes entirely towards paying for gas for my two hour commute to work...that would kind of depress you, too, right? Then to hear that all the people who keep me sane at work are seriously thinking about leaving...kinda sucks.

So I'm not sure what I'm going to do quite yet. Keeping my options open...I love the work I do and the kids I work with enough to see myself just sucking it all up and staying, but I'm also going to explore some options. Doing what I do but doing it closer to home/Minneapolis is ideal, and it's kind of like my search for a place in Uptown I can afford to live in by myself...I would rather search for it before I actually need to search for it.

In other news, MTV has some really fucking rad videos at four in the morning. I know this because I'm trying to train my body for the overnight shift I'm working tomorrow night so I won't want to kill anyone when my sleep-starved body is driving home at 8 am Saturday morning.

O-tay. No more talking about work. Unless I'm talking about how much I work it on the dancefloor...which, really, have you seen these moves? They rock the party that rocks your body that rocks the house.

You KNOW it!

Congratulatory relations

I still can't believe it.

Melina is married.

I mean, it's not that I can't believe she's married - the girl is bank - but it was just a year ago that I was reading and relating to her hilarious stories of boy stalking, hook-ups, crazy dating, and just being a hot single girl on the prowl.

And now she's married and stuff. And like all gushy happy married and stuff. I'm super happy for her, but it's just hard to wrap my head around it...Melina is married. My Melina...my fellow boy-crazy blogger...is now crazy about just one boy.

Sigh. I thought I had a rule about nobody getting married or pregnant until I said they could. Does no one respect rules anymore? I don't just make up these rules for fun, you know...they serve a purpose, even if that purpose is only to serve me.

"Awww kitty kitty..."

So here's something that you should know about me; kids and cats love me. LOVE me. They can't get enough of me. I've had kids cry and beg me to take them home with me, and cats just won't leave me alone. You might envy me of this, especially if you are of the female persuasion, but here's the deal...I don't like kids and cats. I kinda hate them.

Kids are okay. I hate them in theory, but I'm not going to throw them off a cliff or anything like that (tempting, but I'm not going to do it). Cats...ugh. Cats. Cute little kittens are okay, but I kind of have a fear/aversion to cats. I had a very disturbing experience with cats once. I was in the process of renting a house from someone I knew, so she let me move some stuff into her basement before she moved out. She was also someone who took in every stray cat in the county, and one day when I came over and opened the back door to the kitchen, about twenty cats came streaming out the door. They were all over the place...on the counter, on the floor, on the top of the fridge. These skinny, sick, dirty cats were all over the fucking place. I never liked cats much before then, but after that...let's just say "feral" replaced "fluffy and cute" in my head concerning visual images.

So knowing that I hate them, it seems a little odd that kids and cats love me, does it not? Nope. Wanna know what the trick is? Pay absolutely no attention to them. Kids and cats are exactly alike that way...they can't stand it when someone isn't paying attention to them. Cats are bitches that way, because if you try to pet them or cuddle with them, they snub you and make you feel like a loser who has no knack with animals. Kids are the same...they're so used to everyone wanting to play with them and tell them how cute they are that it forms this sort of center-of-the-universe perception in them.

When I started out as a therapist, I employed the tactic of snubbing the kids as a way to win their favor. It sounds fucked up, but it's not. Kids can smell fear. In doing behavioral therapy with children with autism, it's kind of a job qualification that you can connect with kids...so if the kids you work with don't like you, it will make you look like a shitty therapist no matter how talented you are at behavioral psychology. The biggest mistake new therapists would make was try too hard. The best thing I ever did was bring Nerds candy, place it right next to me, and then sit back and basically ignore my clients. After they realized that I wasn't going to worship the ground they walked on - and that I had candy - they were eating out of the palm of my hand (literally; one my clients loved to pour Nerds into the palm of my hand and then lick them up...yes, it was weird and slighly uncomfortable).

It's the same way with cats. I'm house sitting for my friend Sascha as we speak, and she has two cats. The first few days I was here, I totally ignored them except for when it was time to feed them or clean their litterbox. They really had no interest in me either. But now one of them likes me. She talks to me, even. I do a great meow...I mostly do it to tease them and make fun of them, but she actually likes it. So every once in a while, you'll hear us meowing back and forth for about twenty minutes. She likes to hop up on the loveseat with me, stroke my arm with her little paw, and push at my boob with her head. I'm sorry, Sascha, if that grosses you out, but your cat likes my right boob. She can't get enough of it. She rubs her little head against it, she paws at it, she pushes at it with her little nose. You can't blame her, really...my boobs are pretty amazing, and I don't know how other people and animals resist from doing the same thing.

But the most suprising thing is that I've actually started to become fond of her. When she paws at my arm (thank you for declawing her btw, Sascha), I now give her the attention she wants. When she curls up beside me, I find myself absentmindedly petting her while I watch TV. Sometimes I even miss her when she's not around. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me, but it's become too hard to fight it.

So I've decided that since I rarely like pets and I actually like this one, I'm stealing her. She won't be here when you get back, Sascha. I'm taking her home with me and we're going to live together in my room. I think my roommate will be cool with it.

Boys In Black Eyeliner..

Tonight I went to my very first show at First Ave.

Don't scoff at me. I've wanted to go before...in fact, I used to always feel a twinge of guilt every time I would pass First Ave and see a line of people waiting to get into the Next Big Show. It's kind of an unspoken rule that you're not really a resident of the Twin Cities until you've been to a show at First Ave...and I've kinda lived around here practically my whole life that I was starting to place it at the "Before I Die" meter...you know, that meter you catergorize things like "Go to Africa", "Eat sushi" or "Get arrested for druken debauchery" in the "I Gotta ____ Before I Die" list.

But guess what...I work for a living. Some of us don't feel comfortable going to a concert just to drag your drunk and tired ass into work the next morning, esp. if that work entails possibly maybe getting beat up that day (that would be my job). I also used to live two hours away, and as concerts at First Ave usually happen to on a weeknight, that didn't exactly work into my "I'm A Workaholic" 80-hours-a-week work schedule.

Then Katy asked me to go with her to Blue October. Besides the fact that Katy is my best friend and I would jump off a cliff for her if she said it would be fun, she let me know enough time in advance to take it off work. Plus, I liked Blue October enough to know that it wouldn't be one of those shitty concerts that are a far second place away from a hot bath and a good book. Needless to say, I was in.

It was one of those concerts where you're not expecting much...then you find yourself stumbling out of the exit, exalting "That was awesome" to each other. I expected First Ave to be bigger...more of an auditorium-style place, more spacious. Now I know why people love going to shows there...no matter where you are in the place, you can see the band...like, actually see the band...their actual expressions, mannerisms, etc.,not just a blur of faces and bodies moving around on stage. Blue October also put on a great show. The lead singer, Justin, is amazing to watch, and his voice stays true whether it's live or on CD (a big annoyance of mine when it comes to concerts is when the band sucks live and find yourself wishing you would have stayed home and saved some money by just listening to the CD while cleaning your room).

Plus, I gotta say...I'm a sucker for boys in black eyeliner. I'll admit it. I'm not your requisite "bad boy" girl or "rocker boy" girl: A., I have a low tolerance for bullshit, and B., if you're in a band...that's cool, but I really don't care all that much. The thing about black eyeliner is this...you have to have some kind of confidence to wear it, including being confident and comfortable with your own sexuality. To me, nothing is hotter than that. And let's just say that the majority of the boys in Blue October were wearing black eyeliner.

Oh yeah, and the music was good, too.

So Sayeth The Amber.

I'm not doin' shit today.

I'm not. It's my day off, I have nothing planned until this evening (when I will be attending my first ever concert @ First Ave...whoop!), and I just don't feel like doing a damn thing.

I did earlier this morning...I had a whole list of crap that I meant to do today. However, then it started raining. And then there were reruns of "Project Runway" on. And then I realized that I had failed to bombard MNspeak.com with useless, meaningless, context-adrift comments in quite a while, and those that hate me on there might be thinking I've finally gone away. Oh yeah, and I've got a lot of laying around to catch up on (too bad that sentence can't be "a lot of sex to catch up on", but I guess I can't have everything all at once).

So I hope you guys have fun at work today. Make sure to work a lot of long hours, and do a lot of boring stuff for me like quarterly reports, budget projections, and trouble-shooting.

Love ya!