wedding

Things on Tuesday – 311 edition – All mixed up

Sometimes, I like to think I'm funny or smart or original or something special.  Sometimes, I am.

So on with the things I loathe/love!

Loathe:

  • Fighting
  • Mold growing in the vent over my desk
  • Half-assed cleaning jobs of said mold issue
  • Paying more than $50 for an article of clothing that will never be seen
  • Still doing that same work over and over, getting rushed to finish it and then finding out I rushed for no reason
  • College classes with people who are NOT ready for college
  • My poor sinuses being such a train wreck

Love:

  • Making up
  • Claritin – my daily dose allows me to come to work, hooray
  • My boobs will look tremendous (not tremendous big, just tremendous beautiful) in my dress for the wedding
  • Haagen Dazs mango sorbet – by far the best mango flavored thing I've tasted since mangoes off the tree in the yard!
  • 4 days and counting remaining in class number one of way too many
  • Having a strong core.  Now if I could only get my upper body strength back.
  • 9 days till I can call Lovey an old man….yep, older by all of 9 months
  • 15 days till the plane ride!
  • A 4 day weekend
  • Kleenex with lotion
  • A week with more loves than loathes
  • New ideas that may get implemented

And that, my friends, is Tuesday. 🙂

 

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My Two Days Off

Over the weekend, I accomplished absolutely nothing and I loved every second of it!

Well, I guess that's not totally true.  I finished yet another silly paper for my class. (One more week to go of this one!  Hooray!)  I qualified for a satellite tournament to Sunday's $750K Brawl.  Wish me poker luck.

Kiddo, Lovey and I went to Friday's on Friday night.  Yeah, I know, chain restaurant, no originality, blahbitty, blahbitty, blah.  It's close, it's relatively inexpensive ($70 for two drinks, an app, three entrees, and two deserts), and the food is always okay if not downright good. I had gone with the idea of trying one of the new things on the menu that they got from the Food Network Ultimate Food Something or another.  I saw it come out and changed my mind.  Sure, someone may have asked for it well done, but an ahi tuna burger shouldn't look like what I saw.

On an up note, they also have these new shaker drinks.  WINNER!  I had one called a Patron Cosmo Rita.  I'm not a heavy tequila drinker but when I have it, I know what I like. (Thanks four years of working in a TexMex restaurant and 2 years of living in Mexico!)  I'm still spoiled with bartenders' tastes, so it can't be cheap and it can't be gold.  So regular Cuervo is a NO-NO from way back.  This bit of loveliness is just as smooth as silk.  You could honestly get hurt drinking these because it doesn't taste like booze…a lot.  I didn't think it did.  Lovey thought it did.  We just have different palates.  Anywho, I may buck up for a bottle of Patron and make this at home it was that yummy.

OMG!  I've been trying to post this since 9am.  Damn work interruptions.

I'll leave you with this photo taken by sticking my hand out the sunroof this morning whilst driving 65 in a 50.  I call it Cruise Ship Blur.  OMG Screw you VOX!  You won't upload my picture!!!  See it here on Flickr.

 

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ROCO Friday – the first March edition

Greetings to the readership.  And the readership said, "ROCO!"

It's a ROCO Friday and even better since it's payday.  I get to pretend like I have money for about a half hour until I pay my bills then it's back to reality.  But, I'm still thankful that I've got enough to pay those couple of bills and have a few bucks to spare.  And the readership said, "ROCO!"

Today, the Shynerscope said that grounding energy might be working to smother my fire.  I will not have that!  I am burning brightly today, so if you're a wet blanket, stay away!  By all means, the best part of today's Shynerscope was the last line: Remember that at the end of the day, you need only be satisfied with the performance of one person: yourself.  That's right!  It's ALL about me.  And the readership said, "ROCO!"

(is this blasphemous?)

Welcome to March!  Month of birthdays (Dad, grrrace's Steve, Shaq, Lovey), turning back the clock, doing yoga in the super dark, and SPRING!  Now, here in Miami, spring doesn't mean much, but I look at it as another season closer to our next trip to Park City.  The house is already booked and if you thought last year's house was nice, we blew it out of the water for this year (which is actually next year).  We've upgraded to jacuzzi and sauna for after busting our asses all day on the mountain.  Can you say stoked?!?!  No?  Then let the readership say, "ROCO!"

I've gotta get a move on to complete some tasks.  I am officially some sort of ad copywriter these days, on the side.  Every extra penny counts.  And the readership said, "ROCO!"

HEP!

Have a great weekend all!

 


 

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QotD: What?! No Goodnight Kiss?

What is the worst date you've ever been on?

Ah, great memories.  I had just returned to PA from NY and was working alongside a friend bartending in a tiny restaurant that made me enough money to only work a couple days a week.  In walked TC*, a guy that was all the rage back in our high school days even though he was from another school. (If girls from another school are saying you're hot, then you must believe that you're hot.)  He was flirting with me(!) pretty hard core (but not vigilante hard core to the penis).  I was a little leary to deal with him, mainly because, well, just because.  BUT, Sparky, who was a friend of my family, said to give him a chance.  So I did.  I actually ended up giving him a lot of chances.  Sparky thought I would be 'good for him' and I might be able to 'help him get himself together'.  I'm such an enabler.

I digress.  We set a time and a day and TC came over to pick me up.  It went downhill from the door.  He wanted to go to a bar to get a drink, which I wasn't opposed to.  It just happened to be the particular bar he took me to that was ALL WRONG!  I lived in a little place called the Mon Valley.  Steelworking kinda place.  So that means some areas were nice, some areas were mediocre, and some areas, well, you just didn't go to hang out.  Guess where we went?

He took me to, literally, a hole in the wall bar where I was a little afraid to sit on the bar stools let alone drink out of anything that wasn't a bottle I opened myself.  He sat there drinking and talking to people in this dive and left me to play video games.  They did have a jukebox and so I went over to see what was on.  I'm pretty sure that I played "Silly Ho" by TLC and he took that as a personal affront.  Afraid to be left in this nightmare, I had to go over to the bar to make nice, and that's where I saw the kicker – the reason I didn't go slumming in this area.

There was a 'woman' sitting at the end of the bar who looked like she had had a hard day of physical labor.  She was drinking a 40 of Old English (in a can, in a brown paper bag), through a straw, that rested between her two front teeth.  I am not making this up.  That was the point where the 'date' was over for me and I said that it was time to go.  And yeah, he had the nerve to make a comment about me thinking I was too good to be there.  I can't believe I went out with him again.  My self-esteem musta really been in the shitter.

*Names have NOT been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.

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Zumba and Bacalao

A few years back, I was taking these Zumba classes.  Apparently, I forgot exactly how taxing they were.  Don't get me wrong, I LOVE this class.  Enough so that I paid up for 8 classes at the gym that has it that doesn't make you join to take classes there. (I hate when gyms do that.)  I went to the first class last night.

I thought I was in decent shape.  I was dead wrong.  Okay, wait, I'm in decent physical shape, but I'm in terrible cardiovascular shape – think overweight smoker.  This class is vigilante hardcore to the penis! (Name that tune.)  Were it not for my competitive nature, and the cash I just dropped, I would have been out of there in the first 20 minutes.  I think we were about 10 minutes in when my chest started burning.  That's my own fault though because I wasn't breathing properly.  At 15 minutes, I was certain that I was heading for an early death.  At 20 minutes, some of the women around me (yeah, it was only chicks and the guy instructor) started "taking breaks" that they didn't return from.  That's when the competition gene kicks in.  There's no way that I'm gonna quit if there are people still going.  Especially not the lady with the super huge fake boobs that's probably giving herself black eyes.  So I stuck it out. 

About halfway through, I got my breathing down while still getting the moves.  Hooray!  The rest was a cake walk.  I'm actually excited to go back next week.

Oh yeah, bacalao.  Pronounced BACK-A-LOWWWWW (not like low, like l plus owwww, as in i hurt myself)

Really, it's just a funny word to say.  It's like salt-dried cod.  Big in the Cuban households.  I've never had it.  Don't think I want to try it.  I will still say it.  Loud and often.  BACALAO!

Now I'm wiped out.  Three posts in one day.

HEP! (More on HEP when I go back to the rig in April.)

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