It appears that I have not written in a few days. It's not that I didn't want to, y'all. I just have no idea what to say and no time to say it. That's mainly because of a packed couple of weeks of social engagements, intense scrabulous games (losing to a doctor in close games is one thing, but getting whupped by a British girl in American scrabble? I've been in a funk about this for days now), and/or anti-social Netflix-ing on my lonely living room couch. It's at least two out of the three. Here are some other things that went down last week:
It snowed twice. I knew where Bloemfontein was when Regis mentioned it because I'd been playing that geography quiz all week long (I also know a lot of other things about Regis in South Africa now, so suck it people who don't have the same birthday as him!).
I was gracious when Killer got us lost and took my first cab ride in Boston. Both personal breakthroughs. While I became a better person this week, I am still as inept as ever when it comes to using my cellphone. Left it at home again on a day I was supposed to meet up with people. Was 30 minutes late to meet Jared and then had to borrow his phone to hunt Alex down. And hang out with him way longer than anyone would ever want to (ah, I kid, I kid) just so I'd have a phone.
In work news, I distributed contraband sparklers around the office and discovered that eggplant parmigiana that is "grilled not fried" means it's "nasty not tasty." I saw an ad for casting calls for a new reality show looking for "competitive, type A, 'wicked successful'" types and thought of signing up my entire office. I settled for Whitecastle, but he was not nearly as amused as he should've been. He informed me that he was Type A- and not A and claimed that lots more people qualify than him. That's simply not true. Jess and I brainstormed other plans to televise him as he spent half of Friday talking to and yelling at the division printer. For reals, y'all, the man deserves his own show.
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