February 14, 2007
" 'Aaaaaaaaaaaand, THEY'RE OFF!' said the monkey as he stuck his toes in the lawnmower."
Stephke Collective, International Spies
One new water heater, purchased mere hours before our departure as a result of the last one busting its gut this morning: $400
Leftover bottle of wine from best friend, consumed after successful installation of said appliance, resulting in an obvious case of pre-Ireland warm-up drunk blogging: Free!
Seven hours of a dear friend's labor: Priceless
Thanks, Rex, for ensuring our speedy getaway.
Commence Operation Sex Kitten. And you thought your vagina was only for childbirth! Silly you.
p.s. Dad? Not dead. See above for proof.
p.p.s. Shit.
February 12, 2007
Heavennnn.... This must be heavennn...
Today: Pre-holiday shopping with my man, to buy much-needed jeans (the better to shake my "fine porcelain ass" with, my dear. His words, not mine), a European appliance adapter for me trusty hair dryer and curling iron, and an extra memory card for my camera. Followed by laundry and housecleaning.
Tomorrow: Wrapping up paperwork at the workplace, followed by packing.
Wednesday: Happy Valentine's Day! I'M IN IRELAND, MOTHAFUCKAZ!
If I can post from there, I will. I know I've been slacking here lately. I'm aware. I'll work on that. As soon as I'm back from VACATION!
Notes for prosperity: The next time I refuse to take a full week off work for three years in a row, shoot me in the face with pepper spray, and before I'm able to collect myself, stick me on a plane bound for somewhere. Anywhere.
This year on the Go To List:
Charleston, SC, with my family, to see my family.
Las Vegas, NV, with my best friend, to get drunk and lounge poolside at The Bellagio. Because while getting drunk in Milwaukee is both efficient and convenient, there's an element of fabulosity that can only be achieved in Vegas. Here? I'm just a boozer. In Vegas? A FABULOUS drunk. Plus, I can't pass up the chance to bump into Paris Hilton while drunk (me, her, both - who cares!) and whisper catty commentary with my best gal pal.
It will be done. Oh, yes. It will be done. If it isn't done, then I am working three jobs (again) for no reason other than my own eventual self-destruction.
Help me enforce these, please.