Back from the Dead

I just spent hours trying to get caught up on my internet life (blogs, recaps, entertainment news...you know, the important stuff in life.) (Like, can you believe Brad and Angelina's baby is getting $5 million for its first pictures!) and I am still not completely caught up. My silly REAL life has gone and gotten in the way of me being an uber internet geek. Which is absolutely ridiculous, might I add. Who needs a real life when you've got an awesomely fake one on the internet?

Well, ME, apparently, I guess. Possibly. (Shocking!) I wish I had the ability to be cool and mysterious. That'd be so...cool...and...mysterious. Anyway, let the record show that I like happiness. I will vote for it every time. Because it is COOL. So please don't worry that I slipped away from the internet in order to listen to emo music and cry myself to sleep and think about death while dressed in black and getting a tattoo.

In other old news that I should have posted about a week ago: Parsnip got me a lily and a special lunch for mother's day. I love being a mom! Even if it is to a destrutive hellbeast of a dog. She's getting a little gray in her fur now and I call her an old lady even though she's only 2 years old. It's a mom thing.

I cleaned my apartment and it's spic and span. Good thing I'm moving in a month. Again.

I procured the second season of Gilmore Girls after watching the first season in a record amount of time. I'm only through the first disc of season 2, but Dean is so cute! I can't believe they made him an adulterous man whore in season 4/5.

My (apparently much tinier) butt has been grabbed twice at work in the last week. (By girls...not that it stops the guys at work from doing inappropriate stuff like that, but I must give off a "girls only" vibe when it comes to touching my butt.) And me getting a tattoo on said grabbed butt seems to be a hot topic of discussion when my co-workers are loopy? Insane? Tired? I don't know. But my ass is not that exciting, y'all. Thank god they haven't started slapping it like I'm a boy in a locker room.

I was proclaimed anorexic at one point last week. My flabby arms and stomach and legs and any other avaiable body part beg to differ.

I *heart* Kasey Chamber's "Pony." (Phillison shout out!)

The end.