Man… I need a new profile pic. This one’s just a temp, but that really is me under the hydrocephalic Jack head.
Let’s see…
Christmas break was good. Uneventful, but good. Any friends that I’ve retained from high school I’m in pretty steady contact with, so there was no impetus for a get-together. I spent most of my vacation in front of the TV guzzling copious amounts of Jack. …Though that was occasionally interrupted by the Mom shoving food down my throat. I actually get the “you’re too thin” spiel every time I go home.
PERHAPSEVIL’s Mom told me to come back “fat and sassy.” I’m not sure what that means… kinda makes me think of a large Southern woman in a muumuu.
Naturally my flight back to LA was canceled – not rescheduled, just plain canceled – so I had to spend an extra day.
On the bright side, however, my demands to thus fly first class were met.
And as a bonus, I got to see a boob!
Granted there was a baby attached to it, but hey… that was one lucky baby!
The thing is you can’t just stare, even when the breastfeeding is taking place not two feet away. I only consider this rude in that when you’re stuck on a plane your point of view is basically down to 180 degrees. If indeed you politely refrain from looking at the baby luncheon taking place to your immediate left, you’re down to only 90 degrees of eye-wanderage. That’s a tall order.
New Years was, in a word, crazy. A bunch of friends invited… well, everyone in LA to their house. It was literally wall-to-wall, body-to-body people. Half were drunk, the others… I don’t even want to know what they were on. So me and the P.E. called it a relatively early night; like two-ish.
The roommates were staggering in as we were waking up, complete with two stragglers who collapsed on our couches. Sensing the apartment would have that stale, post-party stench, we made a quick charge back to P.E.’s place to convalesce in a more private setting.
And now tonight is the Rose Bowl, which likely means there will be a large gathering waiting for me at home tonight. I am a Trojan, but I was born without the sports gene. Fortunately I’m also Irish, so at least I can drink all their beer.
Happy New Years to yas!
Let’s see…
Christmas break was good. Uneventful, but good. Any friends that I’ve retained from high school I’m in pretty steady contact with, so there was no impetus for a get-together. I spent most of my vacation in front of the TV guzzling copious amounts of Jack. …Though that was occasionally interrupted by the Mom shoving food down my throat. I actually get the “you’re too thin” spiel every time I go home.
PERHAPSEVIL’s Mom told me to come back “fat and sassy.” I’m not sure what that means… kinda makes me think of a large Southern woman in a muumuu.
Naturally my flight back to LA was canceled – not rescheduled, just plain canceled – so I had to spend an extra day.
On the bright side, however, my demands to thus fly first class were met.
And as a bonus, I got to see a boob!
Granted there was a baby attached to it, but hey… that was one lucky baby!
The thing is you can’t just stare, even when the breastfeeding is taking place not two feet away. I only consider this rude in that when you’re stuck on a plane your point of view is basically down to 180 degrees. If indeed you politely refrain from looking at the baby luncheon taking place to your immediate left, you’re down to only 90 degrees of eye-wanderage. That’s a tall order.
New Years was, in a word, crazy. A bunch of friends invited… well, everyone in LA to their house. It was literally wall-to-wall, body-to-body people. Half were drunk, the others… I don’t even want to know what they were on. So me and the P.E. called it a relatively early night; like two-ish.
The roommates were staggering in as we were waking up, complete with two stragglers who collapsed on our couches. Sensing the apartment would have that stale, post-party stench, we made a quick charge back to P.E.’s place to convalesce in a more private setting.
And now tonight is the Rose Bowl, which likely means there will be a large gathering waiting for me at home tonight. I am a Trojan, but I was born without the sports gene. Fortunately I’m also Irish, so at least I can drink all their beer.
Happy New Years to yas!
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
I was born without that gene too. That's how you survive out there, in the future. We're the ones who make it. There are a lot of women.