Today is my 2nd Anniversary with Dan. I'll spare you all the mushy stuff and just say that I love him and I can't wait to build a family with him. 
This morning I had a meeting at work and ::due to weather conditions, the F line is experiencing delays in service:: caused me to be 20 minutes late. Now, I was the one who called this meeting because I was tired of making excuses for the apathy of my higher ups - I wanted to clear a bunch of things up so that I had difinitive answers to customer's questions. Anyway, I called three different people at the office and left messages regarding the train issues. That's about all I could do. When I got here, I paged down to let them now I had arrived and was ready to get started. The reply was, "Well, we're really pissed off. How DARE you come in so late? We've been WAITING for you, and you just waltz in? I mean, REALLY." Needless to say, I was a little miffed. I said, "I apologize for being 20 minutes late, but unfortunately there's not a lot I can do about the MTA delays, and I don't have the luxury of a car" (referring to the fact that they all drive BMWs and Benzes with fucking OnStar and leather interiors). This meeting wouldn't have taken more than 20 minutes to execute, and they don't start their day until 11am....but I suppose their pride got in the way and they informed me that "No, HONEY, we'll have to rechedule." So I suppose I'M the bad guy.
I fucking hate SoHo and all the pretentious elite douchebags that come with it.
Moving on.
With my newfound love of Napoleon Dynamite, I downloaded a 'ringtone' of Napoleon saying "TINA, COME GET SOME HAM." I just about pass out every time I hear it.
Speaking of passing out, I was quite flattered by yesterday's discovery that my affection towards the uber-hot-and-wicked-fucking-awesome Mo is mutual.
And for those of you who are simply DYING to help us move into our new place, D-Day is 01.29.05. Free beer and pizza, plus you'll get to see both Dan and myself all sweaty and muscly. It doesn't get much better than that.
Can you get your stuff out of my locker? I can't fit my numchucks in there anymore.
This morning I had a meeting at work and ::due to weather conditions, the F line is experiencing delays in service:: caused me to be 20 minutes late. Now, I was the one who called this meeting because I was tired of making excuses for the apathy of my higher ups - I wanted to clear a bunch of things up so that I had difinitive answers to customer's questions. Anyway, I called three different people at the office and left messages regarding the train issues. That's about all I could do. When I got here, I paged down to let them now I had arrived and was ready to get started. The reply was, "Well, we're really pissed off. How DARE you come in so late? We've been WAITING for you, and you just waltz in? I mean, REALLY." Needless to say, I was a little miffed. I said, "I apologize for being 20 minutes late, but unfortunately there's not a lot I can do about the MTA delays, and I don't have the luxury of a car" (referring to the fact that they all drive BMWs and Benzes with fucking OnStar and leather interiors). This meeting wouldn't have taken more than 20 minutes to execute, and they don't start their day until 11am....but I suppose their pride got in the way and they informed me that "No, HONEY, we'll have to rechedule." So I suppose I'M the bad guy.
I fucking hate SoHo and all the pretentious elite douchebags that come with it.
Moving on.
With my newfound love of Napoleon Dynamite, I downloaded a 'ringtone' of Napoleon saying "TINA, COME GET SOME HAM." I just about pass out every time I hear it.
Speaking of passing out, I was quite flattered by yesterday's discovery that my affection towards the uber-hot-and-wicked-fucking-awesome Mo is mutual.
And for those of you who are simply DYING to help us move into our new place, D-Day is 01.29.05. Free beer and pizza, plus you'll get to see both Dan and myself all sweaty and muscly. It doesn't get much better than that.
Can you get your stuff out of my locker? I can't fit my numchucks in there anymore.
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whhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?