Bored & (sometimes) Witty

I’m officially the most ridiculous person ever. I am currently obsessed with the blog I found on Friday night. I can’t help it. She is a really good writer. She is funny and she seems like someone I would totally get along with, aside from that whole, briefly-dated-if-you-even-want-to-call-it-that husband thing. For the record, he was not married when I knew him. He didn’t meet her til he moved to Houston and that was after the last time I had actually seen him.

Anyway, she posted the other night and said that she was past her due date so she is going to be induced today. At 5:30am. Despite the fact that moms who just give birth do not immediately return to blog about it, I keep checking. I would totally post the blog site address but I don’t know if that would mean she can track who is linking to her and I would really rather stay incognito because, well, there is no need for her to know that I’m crazy. I will save that for all of you. So now I am waiting anxiously to hear about Erin’s new baby. Erin. Like I am friends with her. See? Absurd.

Today was a fairly good day.

Post-work, MTG, Macktastic A and I headed to the outlets for a little FNS that’d be Friday Night Shopping –or retail therapy, if you’re me. I was most successful on my adventure. Mainly because I purchased my first coach purse.

I don’t usually splurge on something like that. I think all of my purses have either come from Target or Ross so this is kind of a big deal. And I got it 50% off.

Macktastic A and MTG are very good shopping buddies. They will tell you when a shirt makes you look pregnant or when you need to loosen the purse strings and buy. All the women out there will understand that these are essential shopping companion duties.

I also discovered that MTG looks awesome in any hat she tries on. I might even wager that she could wear a burlap sack wrapped around her head and rock it. I, on the other hand, stayed away from hats. I did purchase a couple other tops that I’m very excited about wearing and need now to only determine where I might possibly have an occassion to wear these snazzy new threads.

After our adventures at the outets which, for the record, are the only stores without a big red nipple on the outside of the building open past 6pm in Napa on a Friday night) we wandered into Taquiera for some quality Mexican food.

Whilst at dinner, we had a very lively conversation about men and their instincts and men who cheat and how jaded it makes women. We then made the rounds of pop culture topics by filling Macktastic A in on the whole FLDS compound debacle going on in Texas.

Ah Texas. Interesting that ‘the Great State of’ comes up. I have a friend in Texas and his birthday is today. What a coincidence!

Fast-forward to after dinner when I’m back in my place, watching a Dateline Special, or whatever it is that is on TV at 9pm on a Friday night. Yes, I know I’m a winner who is home on a Friday night.

I decide to check my email. Followed by googling my name, just for kicks. Then both my brothers, then I think to myself, Self, you should google your friend in Texas and see if he has an email where you can send him a birthday note.

I wondered what I might find. Old pictures of him during his football days with the Washington Redskins? Old articles of his college games?

Wouldn’t it be funny if instead of finding him, you find another blog that is authored by his now-wife who is about to give birth to their child at any moment? Wouldn’t that be hilarious? After all, you haven’t actually seen him in well over a year but one might think he would have mentioned the fact that he is now married and an expectant parent again in the text messages he was sending in September (and before) that often included pics of his little girl so I could see “how big she was getting”. Wouldn’t that be just crazy if that happened?

No, it would not be crazy. It would be ridonkulous. And it would be my Friday night.

I was having dinner with my family last weekend when my brother told a story (in the presence of my mother who still to this day grimaces at thought of her of-age children embibing) about how it is totally fair game to draw on a person if said person passed out after a night of drinking with their shoes still on.

This is common party law to which we enlightened our parents that particular evening.

My brother continued on with his story saying how one of his buddies had come home from the bar and passed out on the couch while still donning his Nikes, which ultimately led to his untimely fate of having his face used as a sharpie easel.

My brother and his friends, of course, stayed traditional and drew a mustache and goofy beard while their other friend lay out cold due to an excessive amount of Coors Light.

However, I feel it necessary to let those reading and who may be thinking that their behavior was juvenile and immature know that:

a) they are 22 year olds, what do you expect, and

b) it could have been worse.

Today I was the statue.

I should have known when I woke up and found that the undershirt that I had planned on wearing hadn’t made it into the wash. It was a black tank top. I opted for navy blue in its place. Classy.

Then I tried to straighten my hair and the straightener must’ve shorted out because it wouldn’t heat up. That left me with punked out hair that even a coworker, whose names rhymes with Kelly, made note of. We were literally in the middle of very important work-related topics when I noticed she was no longer looking at me in the eye but seemed to be staring above my head. I stopped and asked what. She looked at me and laughed and said “dude, I can’t get over your hair today.”

The true kicker of the day was when we decided to patronize Cook for lunch. I have been to aforementioned restaurant only one other time.

I ordered a ham and cheese panini because we all know that I’m obsessed with paninis and since the mini-Caf changed recipes, I have been forced to find another place with good paninis.

When our food finally arrived, it smelled quite delightful. Then I bit in and enjoyed the first bite.

The second bite…not so much.

I peeled back my toasted foccacia bread to reveal what normally would have been a melted cheesy delight. However, there is absolutely nothing delightful about having the wrapper to the cheese still on your sandwich, post-cooking. And to boot, they still charged me for half of the sandwich, despite me not being able to really enjoy their second attempt at food because I couldn’t get the sensation of chewing on waxy plastic out of my mind.

Today I was not the pigeon and unfortunately this time around, that isn’t a good thing.