Goodbye. You've been a real bastard and I will not be looking back. Don't let the door hit you and all that. There will be no booty calling, no drunk dialing, and no rose-colored reminiscing.
Kiss my ass,
Monday, December 22, 2008
As we are still being bombarded with endless snow and snow warnings and more snow predicted and there is a freaking FOOT of snow in my backyard, I begin to wonder. Always Winter, never Christmas?
If I could find the damned White Witch, I'd kick that biotch's ass RIGHT NOW, I tell you.
Stoopid Nature, stoopid sparkly pretty snow, covering the city with beautifulness and holiday charm, making it look all clean and pretty. Meanwhile, getting all up in mah grill, messin' wit mah plans.
I am supposed to be whisked away on a romantic getaway RIGHT NOW. Drinking wine and gazing at the ocean right outside my oceanside cabin window, lolling around in my nightie.
Instead, here I sit. And my friend sits, across town, snowed in in his own house.
PLUS! The special secret surprise I worked out for my daughter sits on the other side of Lake Washington, and I can't get to it. What if I can't get to it before Christmas Eve?! It's a really really great surprise, and really, the main event of the holiday. I am so screwed.
On the upside, my house is cleaner than it's been , probably since I moved in.