I'm done with my statistics proofreading work! Wooooo! Bring on the cash!
I did what any hard-partying gal such as myself would do after two weeks of working like a scullery maid. Tall Boy and I stampeded to Winston-Salem to see a movie.
Ceeeeelebrate good times, come on!
There is this pretentious art theater in Winston called Apeture, and if you are into that sort of thing, aka not Hulk, I highly recommend it. We saw a movie about some young girl who was screwed up. She was really hot and sometimes she was naked.
Have I ever told you about how Tall Boy gets the most enormous bags of popcorn available to mankind? Seriously, a crane needed to be brought in to lift that thing. It must be nice to be nine feet tall and be able to eat quantities unimaginable to normally heighted people. Honestly. He will eat with gusto 96 pieces of pizza to every one I have. And he is not remotely fat. It is fascinating.
I wonder if I could get stretched somewhere. Like when a shoe is too tight.
When we were done with the girl-who-was-screwed-up movie (she never got better. It was an art film. People don't get better.), we came back here and watched Tallulah hump Roger. Tallulah. Ruining a mood since 2007.
It's almost Tallulah's birthday, by the way. She will be four! Remember when she was just a pup?
Now she is a big adult who is over it.
I don't know what we're doing for her birthday. I was thinking maybe Chuck E. Cheese. I'm sure that would go over well. Especially if I brought that rocket scientist Edsel along. What traumatized children?
Maybe I'll just have a few dogs over and hire a magician.
Do people even do that anymore for kids' birthdays or does everyone have a big production for their kids like they do on Real Housewives? The last time I was at a birthday party for a child was probably my cousin's birthday when she was 12. She is 35 now. As I recall, there was cake and all my uncles sat around out-funnying each other. Then someone suggested we go to the cemetery.
Ending a family get-together with a drive to the cemetery is big in my family. We are kind of like an art film. If we don't do that, we get ice cream. What they should do is open an ice cream stand in the cemetery. I come from Catholic people. My home town could stand to make a fortune.
Okay, I have to go. It is my boss's boss's birthday and he is a very cool guy, so we decided to surprise him with doughnuts and guess who lives closest to the doughnut store? Guess who has never brought doughnuts despite her obscene proximity to said store? Guess who sucks? So it's me and some long pink boxes today walking into the building.
Maybe after we'll all go to the cemetery.