Would you like to know what did not go down smoothly?
Mustaches on the dogs. That's what.
I have to go. I gotta take down my Christmas decorations, go to work and fax something to the IRS (stupid Polish work. Don't do any work for Poland. I'm just telling you now), get groceries and then I have a hot date with Ned. Have I ever mentioned that I like Ned?
We've been debating what counts as our one-year anniversary. I started emailing with him on January 5, but we didn't have a date till January 19. I say our anniversary is 1/5, because I pretty much knew THAT DAY that I liked him and that I was doomed. He says 1/19 counts because before that we weren't, you know, dating.
What say you?
I'll talk at you tomorrow. Before I go, let's all look at my pal Not Wes.
Not Wes, Ned and I had lunch yesterday, at the lesbian taco place. I was once again unable to order the tuna taco due to my huge maturity. I still CRAVE the tuna taco, and someone please insert softball joke here.
Also, this is Ned's apartment building, but not Ned's apartment, because his place does not quite overwhelm you with its Christmas cheer. He has precisely one wreath on his door, and he only has that cause his mom got it for him. My point is, I admire this person's star and wonder where he or she got it. Not that I have anyplace as perfect and cute for a star like that. Still.
Okay, off to do my things. And in case you were worried sick, I got ANOTHER GODDAMN MIGRAINE last night. Also, thanks to all of you, but I have already tried Zomig, Imitrex, Maxalt, chiropractors, acupuncture, biofeedback, and I am a regular Botoxer, although I think they shoot it different places for migraine. Wouldn't it be great if I could get my Botox covered by insurance?
Anyway, the point is, I've tried it all. Yes, I tried nerve block shots and beta blockers and transcendental meditation and changing my diet and also jabbing forks in my temple. I hate everything. Except tuna tacos.
Insert Ellen Degeneres joke here.
Okay. Mature June. Out.
