-2 Degrees IS As Cold As You’d Think

Oh hai. Yeah, I haven’t written in awhile. I was a tad on the busy side this week. And when I say on the busy side, I was out drinking FOR WORK and handing out my number to strange Chicago policemen and not getting enough sleep and not sticking to my diet because as I’ve mentioned, and given advice about, nothing cures a hangover like hash browns, cheeseburgers, french fries and/or more wine.

So, oh, hey, what’s up internet? I’m trying to catch up on your blogs because I have been a little behind on the reading. Especially those of you who are deemed BAD and BLOCKED by my workplace.

I’m also currently drinking vodka and grape Kool-Aid mixed in a glass. And I’m loving life.

So an update, BULLET STYLE (would you expect anything less?) of my last few days:

• So I went to a party this evening. I braved the NEGATIVE TEMPERATURES and realized one doesn’t need blush when the 40-mile Arctic winds will asscomplish that for you.
• I also realize that no one wants me showing up to a party with snot coming out of every orifice in my face. And that maybe I should have taken a cab. But I’m cheap.
• I fell down a step and twisted my ankle before getting into the cab that was going to take me home. And I wasn’t even drunk.
• Speaking of cabs, I think I get hit on by every cab driver in the City. At least the ones who take me home. Last time, I was so drunk I not only GAVE my number to the cabbie, I also agreed to meet him the next day at Starbucks. (I didn’t.) (If you’re new here, click on that link. ‘Tis good shit.)
• Tonight, I was (thankfully) not drunk and just thanked him for the nice conversation.
• This was after he told me how he loved tall women and couldn’t understand why I was still single.
• I’m sure he changed his tune when I gave him a 95-cent tip. Because I only had $15 for the $14.05 fare.
• Wednesday night I was out until after midnight with a vendor. Drinking in a bar. This vendor, I love them. They like to drink. And so do I. So we get along so well.
• At the bar we headed to after dinner, I commented to the group that there was a really cute guy on my way back from the bathroom. This prompted the one guy in our party to go over to said Cutie and tell him I was in lurve with him.
• He came back without the cute guy. And a sad look on his face.
• I asked him what he said, and he informed me that he told the Cutie that some hot, tall girl over there (pointing to me in a manner unnecessary) thought he was cute.
• His reply? “Is she blind?”
• We’re meant to be.
• About 10 minutes later, Cutie came over, sat next to me and we chatted.
• He promptly told me he hated women and their ovaries.
• I told him uteruses would be a better thing to hate. Or vaginas.
• He just got out of a long relationship with the girl he thought was THE ONE.
• He is 30 and cute with a baby face, just how I like them.
• And he’s a narcotics cop for Chicago and has a really good head on his shoulders.
• It’s too bad he hates Fallopian tubes.
• I gave him my number anyway.
• Marched my ass across the whole bar, handed him my card and said “if you’d like, give me a call sometime.”
• I NEVER do things like this.
• Hence why I’m single.
• But according to a co-worker, he watched me the whole time. And watched me put on my coat and walk out. Eyes never leaving me.
• Yes, I did all this in front of a co-worker.
• I haven’t heard from the Cutie yet. I don’t think I will.
• But it was fun. And felt good to be ballsy. Since I am so rarely ballsy. With guys.
• Thursday night was our work holiday party. It was a lot of fun.
• The bartender was hitting on me, apparently.
• Because the same co-worker from the night before told me so.
• I’m only ever going out with her.
• Or taking cabs.
• I have the best luck there. See the logic?
• Also, do you see why I should stick to marrying my DVR?
• I’m going to stick to drinking my vodka/Kool-Aid drink right now. And watching some bad reality TV.
• That I have stored on my DVR.
• Because after having Scott Baio make me tear up last night after watching his proposal, there is still hope for reality television.
• As if we have a choice. There’s NOTHING else on.
• And really? Celeb Rehab, Project Runway, Rock of Love, American Idol, Big Brother, Celebrity Apprentice, Real World/Road Rules Challenge, this is good shit.
• Plus Flavor of Love 3 starts in February.
• You are all missing out!
• If they could just bring back the Paula Abdul show, I would be in heaven.
• I promise a better post next week.
• But not. Because we have a sales conference. And that means more drinking, less typing.
• Thank God I didn’t sign up for that Blog 365 bullshit.
• I don’t think I would have lasted a week.
• Either that or you would have heard daily updates about my cat and her tongue.
• And she prefers her low-key life.
• She doesn’t handle celebrity well.
• She likes to be able to lick her ass and va-jay-jay in private.
• And really, can you blame her?