Dear Netflix, You Win.

I admit defeat. I’ve had this movie in my house since August 16th and I’ve never even opened the envelope. Ten bucks a month to borrow a movie for almost three months. I could have bought it twice.

So I’m sending it back, unwatched, with my head held high and my dignity in place. I may never find out what happens in the movie in which John Krasinsky and Mia Rudolph are adorable hipsters having a baby, and I’m okay with it.

But I swear to God, I will watch the next one.

Oh, Noes!

I missed my Friday NaBloPoMo post! I blame tiredness. I fell asleep at 8 pm last night, which resulted in a ridiculously early wake up time this morning. (4 AM!) I’m using the time wisely and being productive, though. Two loads of laundry folded, cleaned the bedroom, and made the bed. Hooray for me! I have some cupcakes to bake and must scrub the bathroom and clean my floors yet, for I have company coming this afternoon for a Scrabble and Wii Guitar Battle Royale. To the death! (not really)

If I don’t make it, tell my mother I love her.

What Happens at Work When I’m Bored. A (Somewhat Blurry) Photoessay.

So I have this shirt.

It’s alright, as shirts go. Certainly not fashion-forward, in any sense of the term. But it’s…kinda cute, and it serves its purpose, which for me means it gives me something to wear to work when I don’t feel like wearing my usual scrubs.
But what is that little ass pocket for? As far as I can tell it’s too small to serve any real function.
My pens would fall right out of there. Not good.
Handheld computerized Yahtzee? Maybe. But the battery’s dead, so no point in that.
Hello Kitty? Oh, I wish. But she might fall out and get lost forever. Sadness.
Paperclips = lamesauce.
Wait a minute…what’s this?
Swedish Fish? Perfect fit!
And delicious, to boot.
Om nom nom.
Adios, fishies!

Quick Thoughts On Internet Dating

Attention men who keep attempting to contact me on my forgotten internet dating profile:

If you send me a ‘wink’ or a ‘smile’ on said Internet Dating Site but live in Kalamazoo, Kauai, or California, do not expect a reply. If in fact I do decide I’m ready to date, I’d appreciate someone within driving range.

Dude. It is Two Thousand and Mother Fucking Nine. Put a damn picture on your profile already. I’m not asking for a lot – not a professional photographer’s portrait. A recent (as in after 1997) close up of your face, even by cell phone, will do nicely.

Don’t make comments about the size of my ass and expect a reply.

Thanks for checking out my forgotten internet dating profile, and have a nice day.

If It’s A Girl? Jennifer, Of Course.

My brother from another mother closest work friend Wilson just told me this week that his wife is expecting their second child. I reacted in the typical girl fashion; that is to say I squealed, clapped my hands, jumped up and down, and tackle/hugged him until he said, “Okay, okay, shh.”

I tend to get excited at good news. Ask my BFF J, who gave me the same news as Wilson did earlier this week and I almost dropped the phone. (Yep, I’m going to be ‘Aunt Jenn’ again, I’m so thrilled for J & E. I’m also not drinking the water, because. Dude. So many babies!)

Anyway. With impending baby news comes impending ‘What are we going to name the baby’ speculation, and Wilson wasted no time combing websites looking for names for his (possibly) baby boy. I rallied for Lucius. As in Malfoy. Wilson’s wife J shot it down hard. Sad Panda.

They’re looking for a name that goes with their chosen middle name (a family name), Justice, which just made this the most awesome game ever. I’ve taken to inter-office emailing him when inspiration strikes. Here are just a few of my favorites.

To:Wilson
From: JC
Subj: I’ve Got It.

Knight.

Knight Ryder Wilson.

You’re welcome.

To:JC
From:Wilson
Subj:Re:I’ve Got It.

No.

Damn.

To:Wilson
From:JC
Subj:YES.

Stark.

Stark Justice Wilson.

Dude. You are FUCKING WELCOME.

To:JC
From:Wilson
Subj:Re:YES

No.


Sonofa…

To:Wilson
From:JC
Subj:Seriously.

Steel.

Steel Justice Wilson.

AM BABY-NAMING GENIUS. NEED TO WRITE BOOK ON NAMING BABIES.

Didn’t get a reply to this one, actually.

Big mistake, Wilson. Huge.

Now I start to get desperate.

To:Wilson
From:JC
(No subject)

Tracker.

Trapper?

TRIPPER. AS IN JACK.

You know, Three’s Company?

COME ON.

*Crickets*

The hell? THIS IS BABY-NAMING GOLD. YOU ARE MISSING OUT, MR. WILSON.

The Hail Mary:

To:Wilson
From:JC
(no Subject)

Plaxico?

T. Rex?

SPIDERMAN

Nothing.

I’m entirely underappreciated.

Wilson told me later that so far he and J are liking the name Logan.

“Like Wolverine, snikt snikt?” I said, hopefully, making Wolverine hands (like jazz hands! Only with pantomiming Adamantium claws!)

“As in Wolverine, snikt snikt.”

“I suppose that’s fine.”

SQUEE!

Drunken Quotes (And Tweets and Facebook Statuses) From Last Night

Before Dinner, 5 PM

Me via FB: Dinner tonight at the Melting Pot, tomorrow at Cactus Blue. Saving money, I’m doing it wrong.

Cheryl via FB: Dinner at the melting pot 🙂

7PM

Me via Twitter: No tables at the Melting pot until 9 w/out a res. Bar service it is, I want fondue.

7:45 PM

Me, to Cheryl: mmmm, this wine is good.

Me via Twitter: Mmmmm, Gerwurztraminer.

8:00 PM

Cheryl, to me: That was good, but I’m still hungry. And those martinis look fantastic.

Me: NO MORE DRINKS. We’ll stop at McDonald’s or something, get you something to sober up.

Cheryl: OOOH, FRENCH FRIES!

Me: Yes, we’ll get you some french fries.

Cheryl: I want some onion rings. Like the beer battered kind. Not those breaded shits I can buy in the store. Seriously, fuck those kind.

Me via FB:
BTW, Cheryl on two glasses of White Zin? Hilarioussss. (Also seen here.)

Me: I don’t feel like going home yet, it’s early.

Cheryl: Me, either.

Me: OOH! We should go to the Sands!

Cheryl: OKAY!

8:30. PM

Upon leaving the restaurant, we pass a small cafe that has closed for the evening with their menu posted on the window.

Cheryl: QUESADILLAS!

Me, via Twitter: Heading to The Sands with drunk bitch in tow.

And it all goes downhill from there. There was gambling, boobs, creepers, fantastic Irish coffee, and humping of dessert products. And because of facebook and Twitter, it’s all been recorded for internet posterity.

Thanks, social media.

Blerg.

Minimum Blog Reqirement, Day 2. Sue me.

Not much to report except my Phillies are, I’m sorry to say, not repeat World Series Champions. (And I will be the first to say I had serious doubts that they would be, so keep the snarky “Philadelphia fans suck” comments to yourself, TYVM.) Jayson Werth, if you need consoling, you know who to call.

Also, I fail at Cupcake Pops. I was attempting them for a work baby shower, and it did not. Go well. Suffice to say I have (delicious) balls of cake and frosting in my fridge, and I doubt I’m going to have them covered in chocolate before 8 AM tomorrow. Heh. Balls. The bruschetta I made came out good, though. Ooh! There’s a post for tomorrow.