Summer is not over yet, it's true; and we've got at least two more weeks until Labor Day (and the whole "Summer's Over" is truly though)--but I have to say: This has been the best summer ever.
Summer 2007 started out with a bang: Pirates of the Caribbean 3 came out May 25, and I went to a sneak peek the night before of it. It was possibly my favorite movie of the three (though it's a close call, since I do adore the first movie so much and have watched it a hundred times.) I've only been able to watch POTC3 twice so far.
My next summer obsession was Harry Potter, both the 5th movie and the last and final installment in the books. My Harry Potter partners-in-crime went with me to a Harry Potter feast in Kansas City (which was admittedly lame, but fun because of the company). The movie rocked--and we think it might be the best movie of the series so far. My friend Pam and I now have unhealthy obsessions with characters from the movies: Pam (Lucius Malfoy) and me (Sirius Black). Admittedly I had a bit of a crush on Sirius in the book at first (I've always liked handsome, arrogant black-haired men)--but Gary Oldman does a good job. And he has tattoos!
I was quite relieved, when a week later, I got my book of the last Harry Potter, and I read it cover to cover. I was not going to have to burn my books in a fit of rage. All ended well.
Then a week after that I was set to go on vacation (my first real vacation in 6 years)--and I flew out to Virginia to meet fellow writers and Bon-Bons, Terri & Tiff. It was the best vacation ever! (The IPod 9th-Circle-of-Hell Incident notwithstanding.) Now I'm having to come off a high of where men actually know I exist...and flirt with me...and go back to work. *pouts* Oh, well, there is still a chance to look for jobs in Virginia. I've always liked Virginia, since I went to Washington, D.C./Arlington/Alexandria; and I love it even more now. It's beautiful like Missouri...but with an ocean. Plus there are sailors, which I find far more fascinating than farmers.
Now...it's back to the old grindstone. Edits to make on my novel. A query letter to write; and agents to beg. Oh, and my 8-5 job too. (And by the way, has anyone watched the extras on The Notebook and wanted to slap Nicholas Sparks? I mean, he's the NICEST guy...but I still want to slap him. Is it just me? AND has anyone seen the deleted scenes on The Notebook? HOLY COW. The alternate sex scenes are...OMG! I don't understand how I can love that movie, but not like the book. Does anyone else feel this way? I mean, aren't you supposed to like the book more? Maybe it's Ryan Gosling...Yeah...I think it's Ryan Gosling NAKED in the movie...)
I'm shallow. What can I say? Oh, and that bit where he yells at her that she's a pain in the ass but he wants to be with her anyway. *sighs longingly*
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Sunday, August 05, 2007
P.S. Weekend Update
I am *so* drunk.
How many of my stories have started with these infamous four words? Not nearly enough. It's 2:45 am, and I've had at least 4 rum runners (none of which I paid for), and I have to say:
1. I love Merchant Marines. *rebel yell* Go, sailors!
2. I love 108 FM. I think there was a "point" something too, but devil if I remember what his shirt said. I wasn't faced that way when we danced. *cough* Yes, danced. Damn, he was pretty. Dark eyes with killer lashes; short dark hair; cute, cute, cute!
3. Yeah, for the Vin Diesel look alike. Hell, it might have been Vin...but if so, he wasn't nearly as persuasive as 108 Guy. (NOT that was 108 Guy was totally persuasive. You can take the girl out of the church, but you can't take the church out of the girl. *pause* Damnit. Because if you COULD....)
4. I could swear I had four offers this evening. *moue pout* Yes, there was a blonde. He said his name was Chris...not that I believe anyone, really, let's be real, who gives their real name? Okay, I did, but I'd had a BUNCH of rum runners and I'm from several states over. Like they'll Google me. Ha! Merchant Marine guy had to ask me my name for a second time. *tsk, tsk* (He was multi-tasking.)
This was the best bar ever! Bar Norfolk! The line was long; the rum runners were crap, but fuck, did I have a blast! Buy me another round!
Listen to 108. He rocked. I mean, cute little Jack guy from Williamburg was HOT, but this one definitely gave him a run for his money. *thinks hard* *continues thinking hard*
Yeah, they were both damned hot. They are going in novels as soon as I sober up.
Enjoy this incriminating evidence while it lasts. I'll delete it as soon as I sober up.
Love, Hellion
How many of my stories have started with these infamous four words? Not nearly enough. It's 2:45 am, and I've had at least 4 rum runners (none of which I paid for), and I have to say:
1. I love Merchant Marines. *rebel yell* Go, sailors!
2. I love 108 FM. I think there was a "point" something too, but devil if I remember what his shirt said. I wasn't faced that way when we danced. *cough* Yes, danced. Damn, he was pretty. Dark eyes with killer lashes; short dark hair; cute, cute, cute!
3. Yeah, for the Vin Diesel look alike. Hell, it might have been Vin...but if so, he wasn't nearly as persuasive as 108 Guy. (NOT that was 108 Guy was totally persuasive. You can take the girl out of the church, but you can't take the church out of the girl. *pause* Damnit. Because if you COULD....)
4. I could swear I had four offers this evening. *moue pout* Yes, there was a blonde. He said his name was Chris...not that I believe anyone, really, let's be real, who gives their real name? Okay, I did, but I'd had a BUNCH of rum runners and I'm from several states over. Like they'll Google me. Ha! Merchant Marine guy had to ask me my name for a second time. *tsk, tsk* (He was multi-tasking.)
This was the best bar ever! Bar Norfolk! The line was long; the rum runners were crap, but fuck, did I have a blast! Buy me another round!
Listen to 108. He rocked. I mean, cute little Jack guy from Williamburg was HOT, but this one definitely gave him a run for his money. *thinks hard* *continues thinking hard*
Yeah, they were both damned hot. They are going in novels as soon as I sober up.
Enjoy this incriminating evidence while it lasts. I'll delete it as soon as I sober up.
Love, Hellion
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Vacation Update: With Hellion
Flight was perfect, slightly cramped--just further proof I need to lay off the freaking Doritos, but too late for the moment. I sauntered to the luggage claim, and upon whom do my twinkling eyes do see? Tiff & Terri, who if they had been any closer, they would have met me at the doorway of the plane. Hugs & giggling were exchanged, then we found my suitcase that weighs roughly the amount of a dead steer.
Wednesday night, we spent the better of the evening trying to get food. Terri tried to accommodate my "need" for batter-fried fish, but strangely a city located a stone's throw from the ocean doesn't serve mundane stuff like "fish & chips", so I went back to the house with a steak, because I really can't get a good steak where I live in Missouri. In cattle country.
The steak was delicious.
Then the boys came. With liquor, which honestly is how all men should show up--with gifts. (Only kidding. Partially.) So after about three shots of rum, I spent an inordinate amount of the evening showing my talent for balancing my ass on the tip end of a chair and sprawling with my feet above my head (not quite what you're probably thinking, but close) and draping off the other end of the chair, hanging on to either the table, the person next to me, my beer...whatever.
I didn't have a hangover. I don't know why either...I totally deserved one.
Thursday came...early. I didn't have curtains in my room, so the bright sun at 9:30 am tends to be distracting. We got up and ate (I had more steak; it was huge); then we ventured off to a bar. I don't remember because Tiff kept liquoring me up with beer. That's a friend. We arrived at the deadest bar ever, but yes, the boys noticed Tiff. (Let's be real.)
Summary: Drunk as a skunk. Predictable men. Pour ourselves in the car and drive to the nearest IHOP to sober up. Slept in till 11 am Friday.
Skip to today because that's my favorite: we were in Colonial Williamsburg. We're in Raleigh's Tavern, and I saw this man with the skinniest calves ever. I wanted a picture with him just to show everyone: Hey, there's this guy with incredibly skinny calves, but the guy goes, "So-and-so will take care of you" (as I'm going down the stairs)--and I say, "Who?"--and a new voice says, "Hello."
And I look down the stairs, and I kid you not: a cross between Will Turner and Jack Sparrow was standing at the bottom of the stairs, tall, handsome, and with a roguish, devilish grin. In my sedate feminine nature, I galloped down the stairs, "Oh! Yes, I must go!" and was at his side in a half-second.
His name was Jack. I got a couple pictures of him. If I could have brought him home as a souvenier, he'd be in my pocket for the rest of this trip.
We're going out now. More to report later. Meanwhile, I'm going to have some very delicious thoughts about "Jack" because he's going to make an excellent hero in one of my books. Oh, who am I kidding? All of my books.
Signing out.
Hellion
Wednesday night, we spent the better of the evening trying to get food. Terri tried to accommodate my "need" for batter-fried fish, but strangely a city located a stone's throw from the ocean doesn't serve mundane stuff like "fish & chips", so I went back to the house with a steak, because I really can't get a good steak where I live in Missouri. In cattle country.
The steak was delicious.
Then the boys came. With liquor, which honestly is how all men should show up--with gifts. (Only kidding. Partially.) So after about three shots of rum, I spent an inordinate amount of the evening showing my talent for balancing my ass on the tip end of a chair and sprawling with my feet above my head (not quite what you're probably thinking, but close) and draping off the other end of the chair, hanging on to either the table, the person next to me, my beer...whatever.
I didn't have a hangover. I don't know why either...I totally deserved one.
Thursday came...early. I didn't have curtains in my room, so the bright sun at 9:30 am tends to be distracting. We got up and ate (I had more steak; it was huge); then we ventured off to a bar. I don't remember because Tiff kept liquoring me up with beer. That's a friend. We arrived at the deadest bar ever, but yes, the boys noticed Tiff. (Let's be real.)
Summary: Drunk as a skunk. Predictable men. Pour ourselves in the car and drive to the nearest IHOP to sober up. Slept in till 11 am Friday.
Skip to today because that's my favorite: we were in Colonial Williamsburg. We're in Raleigh's Tavern, and I saw this man with the skinniest calves ever. I wanted a picture with him just to show everyone: Hey, there's this guy with incredibly skinny calves, but the guy goes, "So-and-so will take care of you" (as I'm going down the stairs)--and I say, "Who?"--and a new voice says, "Hello."
And I look down the stairs, and I kid you not: a cross between Will Turner and Jack Sparrow was standing at the bottom of the stairs, tall, handsome, and with a roguish, devilish grin. In my sedate feminine nature, I galloped down the stairs, "Oh! Yes, I must go!" and was at his side in a half-second.
His name was Jack. I got a couple pictures of him. If I could have brought him home as a souvenier, he'd be in my pocket for the rest of this trip.
We're going out now. More to report later. Meanwhile, I'm going to have some very delicious thoughts about "Jack" because he's going to make an excellent hero in one of my books. Oh, who am I kidding? All of my books.
Signing out.
Hellion
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Last Post For Awhile
Because I'm going on Vacation!
That's right. Hellion is flying to Virginia (no, not on my broom) and meeting with Terri & Tiff, who will already be hanging out and doing all things indolent and vacationy.
Some interesting trivia before I go:
Sin has the ability to "scissor-kick" people in the back of the head. She told me so on the way up to meet our critique group, The Sassy Scribes, on Saturday. I nearly drove off the road, I was laughing so hard at her story about it.
"Russian Goggles" is a similar term to "Tea-Bagging", which I had interestingly enough HAD heard of before both terms were bandied about at the co-worker party Brad took me to Saturday night. His friend, Ted, brought it up, then left Brad to explain it to the rest of us ignorant females...and when he brought up "Tea-Bagging" as a frame of reference, a look of enlightenment must have skittered across my face because he looked rather priceless when he asked, "You know what that is?" "Yes, I know I've been told before what it is...but I'm not drawing a complete definition at the moment." At the moment, I was thinking, It was something Jack and Matty had yammered about--and it's probably as deviant as that whole donkey punch crap that Matty had to explain to me. If you don't know what the terms are, you can Wikipedia it. I'm not telling you.
I've discovered not all Mikes are bad. I know, I wouldn't believe it either. I have been emailing with this applicant/student for a couple months; and he really wanted in this summer. I told him it would take a miracle; I bugged the hell out of him; and he did everything I asked. I finally got to process him for summer, since I wanted to do it before I left on vacation and when I told him all was done, he wrote back he was "speechless." I had written I wasn't opposed to bribes of chocolate. He sent me this ostentatiously huge bouquet of flowers--and I stared at it for five minutes, couldn't sign my name to "receive" them I was so flummoxed and shaky, then nearly broke into tears at the card. "Thank you for saving me. Gratefully, Mike." Usually at best, I get a chocolate bar from a grateful student...and really, it IS my job, so why expect more? But this was awesome. I've taken about 6 pictures of it. I'm rather devastated I won't be able to enjoy it much more since I'll be on vacation (it arrived yesterday). P.S. Mike is engaged. I *did* ask; I mean, I had to, but I figured he'd at least be dating...anyone who follows a woman's directives that well without complaint or questioning...yeah, he's taken.
Anyway, if you ever want to make me cry: send flowers. And you know the totally kick-ass part--this bouquet is freaking gorgeous and not one carnation in the batch--and we all know I hate carnations. You didn't know? Oh.
I hate carnations. They are the flower of death. Can't stand them.
My luggage for the trip probably weighs as much as I do. I pack like Scarlett O'Hara. Although my boss (I adore the man) said, "I had a student once who brought four trunks with her for an overnight trip. The others never let her live it down." I'm not that bad. One big suitcase, one backpack and my purse. I tried to leave some room for souvenirs. I've brought 6 pairs of shoes; 2 pairs of which are flip-flops; 2 are high-heels; 1 pair tennis shoes; 1 pair leather sandals.
That's right. Hellion is flying to Virginia (no, not on my broom) and meeting with Terri & Tiff, who will already be hanging out and doing all things indolent and vacationy.
Some interesting trivia before I go:
Sin has the ability to "scissor-kick" people in the back of the head. She told me so on the way up to meet our critique group, The Sassy Scribes, on Saturday. I nearly drove off the road, I was laughing so hard at her story about it.
"Russian Goggles" is a similar term to "Tea-Bagging", which I had interestingly enough HAD heard of before both terms were bandied about at the co-worker party Brad took me to Saturday night. His friend, Ted, brought it up, then left Brad to explain it to the rest of us ignorant females...and when he brought up "Tea-Bagging" as a frame of reference, a look of enlightenment must have skittered across my face because he looked rather priceless when he asked, "You know what that is?" "Yes, I know I've been told before what it is...but I'm not drawing a complete definition at the moment." At the moment, I was thinking, It was something Jack and Matty had yammered about--and it's probably as deviant as that whole donkey punch crap that Matty had to explain to me. If you don't know what the terms are, you can Wikipedia it. I'm not telling you.
I've discovered not all Mikes are bad. I know, I wouldn't believe it either. I have been emailing with this applicant/student for a couple months; and he really wanted in this summer. I told him it would take a miracle; I bugged the hell out of him; and he did everything I asked. I finally got to process him for summer, since I wanted to do it before I left on vacation and when I told him all was done, he wrote back he was "speechless." I had written I wasn't opposed to bribes of chocolate. He sent me this ostentatiously huge bouquet of flowers--and I stared at it for five minutes, couldn't sign my name to "receive" them I was so flummoxed and shaky, then nearly broke into tears at the card. "Thank you for saving me. Gratefully, Mike." Usually at best, I get a chocolate bar from a grateful student...and really, it IS my job, so why expect more? But this was awesome. I've taken about 6 pictures of it. I'm rather devastated I won't be able to enjoy it much more since I'll be on vacation (it arrived yesterday). P.S. Mike is engaged. I *did* ask; I mean, I had to, but I figured he'd at least be dating...anyone who follows a woman's directives that well without complaint or questioning...yeah, he's taken.
Anyway, if you ever want to make me cry: send flowers. And you know the totally kick-ass part--this bouquet is freaking gorgeous and not one carnation in the batch--and we all know I hate carnations. You didn't know? Oh.
I hate carnations. They are the flower of death. Can't stand them.
My luggage for the trip probably weighs as much as I do. I pack like Scarlett O'Hara. Although my boss (I adore the man) said, "I had a student once who brought four trunks with her for an overnight trip. The others never let her live it down." I'm not that bad. One big suitcase, one backpack and my purse. I tried to leave some room for souvenirs. I've brought 6 pairs of shoes; 2 pairs of which are flip-flops; 2 are high-heels; 1 pair tennis shoes; 1 pair leather sandals.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Hellion's Holiday
So I was gone Thursday & Friday. (Did you miss me? Of course, you did.)
There's too much to talk about what happened Thursday and Friday, so I'll just share some various conversation snippets of the last few days:
* * *
Holly: *handing a Bertie Bott's Bean to Pam* Here, try the earthworm flavor. It tastes like dirt, but with something a bit zesty.
Hellion: *chomping hers* Yes, it IS like dirt with something more. Something meaty. *casts look in rearview mirror at Pam, who looks positively disgusted*
Holly: Liver I think.
Hellion: Good one!
*Pam takes a dainty nibble off the end of the earthworm flavor, making gakking sounds*
Holly: *realizing we've tried all the flavors* Anyone else want another bean? We've gone through them all.
Pam: *still delicately gakking* Soap. Give me another soap.
Holly: Really? You liked the soap?
Pam: I'm trying to get the DIRT out of my mouth.
Holly: Oh, well, that'll do it.
* * *
While watching the lame magician at the Harry Potter feast, disturbed our $45 went toward paying for this guy.
Professor Snap: You know Harry Potter has that scar on his forehead; in high school I had a big L on my forehead so I could totally empathize...
Pam: *leaning over to whisper* You mean, it's not still there?
Hellion: *bursting into hysterical laughter, non-Snap related*
* * *
Several times during the day.
Hellion: Where did Holly go? I can't find her. We're going to be late [or: kicked out of the store because it's closing. or: really late...]
* * *
On the phone.
Pam: So do you think you'll want to go to happy hour?
Hellion: God, I have a headache...let me take something. *yawning* I did promise to go. *click, my phone hangs up* Son of a bitch.... *redials, gets Pam* Sorry, the phone's acting wonky.
Pam: Do we know where we want to go? *click, my phone hangs up again*
Hellion: Son of a bitch! *redials, apologizes to Pam a second time* No, I don't even feel like drinking at the moment. It's so hot. *click, the phone hangs up a third time* Arrggh!
* * *
At the bar. After three beers.
Brad: And then... *gestures, his arms swinging and accidentally a bowl goes flying off our tiny rickety table and crashes to the floor spectacularly; we stare in horror*
Waitress: I'm cutting you off.
Brad: *pointing at me* She did it.
Hellion: *wondering if I might have, can't really remember* Well, it was good of you to take the blame for my klutzy ways...
* * *
After the fourth beer.
Brad: *says something funny as I'm taking a drink of beer*
Hellion: *spits the beer all over Brad and Chris, coughs* I'm sorry, shit, I'm really sorry.
Brad: That's okay. I broke a bowl.
Ten minutes passes.
Brad: *says another funny thing; probably that he was Greek and that was why he broke the bowl--which is clearly untrue since he's fair complexed and freckled*
Hellion: *spits another mouthful of beer, really splashing both Chris and Brad* Oh fuc...
Brad: *laughing* It's okay...
Hellion: *mopping up with napkin* No, this is really bad manners. I usually swallow.
So I had a really fun holiday...and I didn't even talk about the cardmaking portion of my weekend. How was your weekend? What did you do?
There's too much to talk about what happened Thursday and Friday, so I'll just share some various conversation snippets of the last few days:
* * *
Holly: *handing a Bertie Bott's Bean to Pam* Here, try the earthworm flavor. It tastes like dirt, but with something a bit zesty.
Hellion: *chomping hers* Yes, it IS like dirt with something more. Something meaty. *casts look in rearview mirror at Pam, who looks positively disgusted*
Holly: Liver I think.
Hellion: Good one!
*Pam takes a dainty nibble off the end of the earthworm flavor, making gakking sounds*
Holly: *realizing we've tried all the flavors* Anyone else want another bean? We've gone through them all.
Pam: *still delicately gakking* Soap. Give me another soap.
Holly: Really? You liked the soap?
Pam: I'm trying to get the DIRT out of my mouth.
Holly: Oh, well, that'll do it.
* * *
While watching the lame magician at the Harry Potter feast, disturbed our $45 went toward paying for this guy.
Professor Snap: You know Harry Potter has that scar on his forehead; in high school I had a big L on my forehead so I could totally empathize...
Pam: *leaning over to whisper* You mean, it's not still there?
Hellion: *bursting into hysterical laughter, non-Snap related*
* * *
Several times during the day.
Hellion: Where did Holly go? I can't find her. We're going to be late [or: kicked out of the store because it's closing. or: really late...]
* * *
On the phone.
Pam: So do you think you'll want to go to happy hour?
Hellion: God, I have a headache...let me take something. *yawning* I did promise to go. *click, my phone hangs up* Son of a bitch.... *redials, gets Pam* Sorry, the phone's acting wonky.
Pam: Do we know where we want to go? *click, my phone hangs up again*
Hellion: Son of a bitch! *redials, apologizes to Pam a second time* No, I don't even feel like drinking at the moment. It's so hot. *click, the phone hangs up a third time* Arrggh!
* * *
At the bar. After three beers.
Brad: And then... *gestures, his arms swinging and accidentally a bowl goes flying off our tiny rickety table and crashes to the floor spectacularly; we stare in horror*
Waitress: I'm cutting you off.
Brad: *pointing at me* She did it.
Hellion: *wondering if I might have, can't really remember* Well, it was good of you to take the blame for my klutzy ways...
* * *
After the fourth beer.
Brad: *says something funny as I'm taking a drink of beer*
Hellion: *spits the beer all over Brad and Chris, coughs* I'm sorry, shit, I'm really sorry.
Brad: That's okay. I broke a bowl.
Ten minutes passes.
Brad: *says another funny thing; probably that he was Greek and that was why he broke the bowl--which is clearly untrue since he's fair complexed and freckled*
Hellion: *spits another mouthful of beer, really splashing both Chris and Brad* Oh fuc...
Brad: *laughing* It's okay...
Hellion: *mopping up with napkin* No, this is really bad manners. I usually swallow.
So I had a really fun holiday...and I didn't even talk about the cardmaking portion of my weekend. How was your weekend? What did you do?
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Harry Update
Harry lives! Or at least he does for the next 10 days.
I'm halfway through book 6 (this is probably my second or third reading of the book--and I find myself devouring the book just as rapidly as I did the first time)--and wonder what the hell I'm going to do to bide my time between now and July 21.
Thursday, I will be gone all day. A Harry Potter feast in a castle AND to see the movie.
Friday, gone all day. Probably going to see the movie again (with the friend who can't go to KC with us to the feast & movie); and I'm probably going to get my hair cut. I might even go to a Happy Hour.
Saturday will be card-making--and I've got new Pirate stamps, so be prepared everyone. All Hellion gifts you may receive in the future will probably have a pirate stamp somewhere on it.
Sunday, I will probably sleep...though I really need to write. I'm such a schmuck. I haven't written anything on Ben in weeks! (Though I did write a bit on Adam & Eve & Lizzie & Lucy.)
THEN it will be a WEEK of waiting until the book is released. I foolishly ordered my book through Amazon--super saving shipping--so I probably won't even get it until the 25th...and then I'll have a critique group meeting the Saturday of the 28th; and the week after I'm going to Virginia. Oh, well, there's always the plane rides. It IS the last book. I suppose I can "savor" it.
How many betting I'm going to cave on Saturday, July 21st, if it doesn't arrive by mail and drive to B&N and BUY a copy to read that day?
I'm halfway through book 6 (this is probably my second or third reading of the book--and I find myself devouring the book just as rapidly as I did the first time)--and wonder what the hell I'm going to do to bide my time between now and July 21.
Thursday, I will be gone all day. A Harry Potter feast in a castle AND to see the movie.
Friday, gone all day. Probably going to see the movie again (with the friend who can't go to KC with us to the feast & movie); and I'm probably going to get my hair cut. I might even go to a Happy Hour.
Saturday will be card-making--and I've got new Pirate stamps, so be prepared everyone. All Hellion gifts you may receive in the future will probably have a pirate stamp somewhere on it.
Sunday, I will probably sleep...though I really need to write. I'm such a schmuck. I haven't written anything on Ben in weeks! (Though I did write a bit on Adam & Eve & Lizzie & Lucy.)
THEN it will be a WEEK of waiting until the book is released. I foolishly ordered my book through Amazon--super saving shipping--so I probably won't even get it until the 25th...and then I'll have a critique group meeting the Saturday of the 28th; and the week after I'm going to Virginia. Oh, well, there's always the plane rides. It IS the last book. I suppose I can "savor" it.
How many betting I'm going to cave on Saturday, July 21st, if it doesn't arrive by mail and drive to B&N and BUY a copy to read that day?
Friday, June 01, 2007
Vacation
May is always the time of year I contemplate vacation.
Mostly because I'm swamped under about 200 folders, of which I'd rather be doing ANYTHING else, than and about a 1000 questions daily of random shit and problems. Drama, drama, drama. Vacation begins to look mighty fine.
So I booked my plane ticket to go see Terri (and Tiff and Sin--but I'm flying to Terri's house--so she doesn't have to go in the parentheses) and will be gone for a week. Of course, being our plans are basically to everything as much as possible for as long as possible until we're completely broke--or dead, I imagine when I return from vacation, I will need a vacation to recover from it. Such are what vacations are all about though, I suppose. And when you're with friends, you don't notice you're tired as easily. Sorta like little kids who've been allowed to stay up for an overnight slumber party. Yeah, right, try getting them to go to bed at 8 pm. Good luck.
In the meantime till August, I'll still have folders. And reports. And reports of reports. And the 1000 daily dumbass questions...and drama. Tonight though, I'll be driving up to St. Louis to visit my friend Jackie, whom I also forget I'm tired when I spend time with her. (Forget, that is, until I find myself in the midst of a hypoglycemic rant and no idea why...and then I realize, maybe I should have let Jackie go to sleep hours ago. *LOL*)
Tomorrow, after my writing group, Jackie, Erica (Jackie's little sister--and rather my honorary little sister), and I will go see POTC3--because that's the good friend I am. *grins* It has nothing to do with the fact I only want to see that movie about a dozen more times or anything. No, no. It's friendship and loyalty only.
Where are you vacationing this year? Who will you most be glad to get away from at the office on your vacation and why? What is the first thing you're going to drink on your vacation?
Mostly because I'm swamped under about 200 folders, of which I'd rather be doing ANYTHING else, than and about a 1000 questions daily of random shit and problems. Drama, drama, drama. Vacation begins to look mighty fine.
So I booked my plane ticket to go see Terri (and Tiff and Sin--but I'm flying to Terri's house--so she doesn't have to go in the parentheses) and will be gone for a week. Of course, being our plans are basically to everything as much as possible for as long as possible until we're completely broke--or dead, I imagine when I return from vacation, I will need a vacation to recover from it. Such are what vacations are all about though, I suppose. And when you're with friends, you don't notice you're tired as easily. Sorta like little kids who've been allowed to stay up for an overnight slumber party. Yeah, right, try getting them to go to bed at 8 pm. Good luck.
In the meantime till August, I'll still have folders. And reports. And reports of reports. And the 1000 daily dumbass questions...and drama. Tonight though, I'll be driving up to St. Louis to visit my friend Jackie, whom I also forget I'm tired when I spend time with her. (Forget, that is, until I find myself in the midst of a hypoglycemic rant and no idea why...and then I realize, maybe I should have let Jackie go to sleep hours ago. *LOL*)
Tomorrow, after my writing group, Jackie, Erica (Jackie's little sister--and rather my honorary little sister), and I will go see POTC3--because that's the good friend I am. *grins* It has nothing to do with the fact I only want to see that movie about a dozen more times or anything. No, no. It's friendship and loyalty only.
Where are you vacationing this year? Who will you most be glad to get away from at the office on your vacation and why? What is the first thing you're going to drink on your vacation?
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