Have You Missed Me?

It's been, oh 4 months since I've last graced my Blog? I am so sorry for the delay. I guess I haven't really had anything of huge importance take over my life or embarass myself to the degree in which I would need to vent about it.

Things of note:
-Coordinating an after school program at a middle school
-Have made exactly 2 new friends this year.
-In my second semester of grad school--Masters of Arts in Teaching
-My collection of fingernail polishes has exceeded 50.
-Moved into my own new townhouse on Daniel Island.
-Discovered an addiction to Bojangles Cajun Chicken Filet Club Sandwich
-Got rear-ended and kept the $$
-Hated someone, loved someone, fell in love, fell out, hated again, fell again and back around the block twice more.
-Watched as most of my graduating class has gotten married and had kids via Facebook.
-Vomitted in my car
-Enjoyed the Holidays.
-Got a personal trainer. Haven't lost a lb, has only been a week.
-Made a holiday contribution to the armed forces
-Had my car cleaned
-Found a new hatred for red heads. And I've primarily always hated redheads. This was fueled and accepted by my love Holly
-Missed all my friends from out of town. Still miss you.

Baby, You're Gone

If my friends don't come back to me, I'm going to cease to exist. (this is the post where I use theasaurus.com for everyday words.)

My 2 best friends: Amy & Holly decided to defy God and all that is holy to move away from Charleston (not that Amy ever truly lived here, but it works with the story). So my best girl friends are what I'd like to call completely awol from my life (as it pertains on a daily basis). Sure, we have a text/email/facebook/gchat relationship (which is quite effective btw), but when I want to hang out or have a mere defecating myself accident at Tsunami surrounded by guys and a gay and really need someone to walk next door to the Pavillion Hotel because it has private bathrooms with me, they aren't there. They aren't physically here. Which hurts my heart. How is my unborn child going to play with their asian babies (minus Holly, unless she adopts and/or finds a guy she can stand or is tall enough and also happens to be asian, which less face it, ain't gonna happen)?

So I propose to move and/or abduct them from their current residents and bring them to be with me. muuuuhhahahahhahaa.








watch out.

Fatty Pants

So I'm all about losing some weight. I've been a little bad over the summer. I mean REAL bad. Fast food is becoming the staple for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And what was once a workout routine has now become eating Sunchips on the couch with Trueblood. Not good for the body. So now that I have a free gym membership (thank you ESAC), I feel I should get up and get moving. And maybe stop eating out so much. It's not that I even enjoy those crispy fries anymore--believe me, I hate myself while I'm doing it. And the fact that I'm mainlining peanut M&Ms as I type this probably isn't helping. But as much as I want to lose 3 lbs like Regina George, I do not, will not and never want to LOOK LIKE THIS. EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

Useless

A bachelors degree these days is about as useful as a used piece of crumbled up toilet paper on the bottom pile the day after a frat party on a game weekend. Graphic and totally true. With the layoffs, hiring freezes and complete emotional toll companies are putting on us these days, people are having to take jobs they are extremely over qualified for. Take Verizon Wireless. I worked with people that had 2 masters degrees, owned their own businesses, or were ex military. If you have any of these qualifications, much less just went to college, there is no way you should ever have a title called "Customer Service Representative". This is for people who couldn't pass the french fry machine test at McDonald's. Not for someone who not only got accepted, but graduated from an institution with a 20% acceptance rate. The best we can do in these times is either accept our fate of being a college educated toilet bowl cleaner(not it) or go back to school. So grad school, here I come. Let's pray they accept me.

Chicfila Sauce=Stimulant Drug?

Is Chic-fil-A sauce actually laced with crack? Or is it crack itself mixed with the most delicious honey and mustard ever created by man? I'm not sure what's in crack..so I googled it and its something to do with baby powder and cocaine, or AMMONIA. As in the cleaning agent. Whatever geniuses thought of this must, uh, have been smoking, uh crack.......

But anywho. I've heard from the Chapelle show and certain window washers that crack can be addictive. Who knew? Well guess what else is addictive, f'n Chicfila sauce. That's its name. It's not honey mustard by chicfila, no its actual name is chicfila sauce and I can barely go a day without speeding up to the beautiful drivethru and shouting my delectable order through the scratchy receiver to have the most gorgeous voice ask me what sauce I'd like. And the moment I get to say back "chicfila sauce please..alot. and by a lot, I mean at least 3 packets". I honestly start having a coronary when John doesn't ask for it upfront, because I'm literally scared they may not have any by the time the order comes up and if only we asked for it first. I think this is the best invention of the 21st century besides Chelsea Handler...and I LOVE Chelsea Handler.

I'm Not Meant For This World

My aspirations in life center somewhere around the following: naming fingernail polishes, having HBO pick up my life for a show, facebook stalking, making up new curse words, reading celebrity gossip, calling my laptop a gaytwad, not doing laundry, showering with new shampoo, and making out. If maybe I could combine all these things into a successful career, I would be a happy camper. But it just seems like I can't find a living doing anything I enjoy. I'm too smart for the job I possess, but not experienced enough for the jobs I want. I, am, just, not, meant, for, this, WORLD.

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