So Last Season

I am wearing a mini-skirt to work. But it is alright since it is Friday and I wrote the dress code. Besides, I have tights on which are practically pants but I do still kind of feel dirty about wearing a short skirt to work since I almost exclusively work with men. That's okay, I have probably been the underage tease from day one no matter my fashion risks.

I wrote a huge explosion of a post about last year and it ended up making me sad and angry so it is saved as a draft in case there is a time when I feel angsty enough to hit publish. Besides, if you want to know about last year you can read read read and besides, it wouldn't be moral to write cliff notes for my bloggy since I do not condone such shortcuts.

I go through these crazy food phases where all I want for like three weeks straight is Tomato and Rice soup, and then only hot dogs, and then macaroni and cheese, and then hard boiled eggs. I'm not sure what is wrong with me. Really. And it isn't like I actually pick good foods to obsess over, it is like a menu rewind to third grade when my mom worked nights and my dad made dinner and all he could do was order pizza, make macaroni, hot dogs and hamburgers. I am consuming gallons of hydrogenated oils on a daily basis. Sick.

It is snowing like it is the end of the world. Big, giant, pretty snow flakes non stop since last night. It makes me want to go ice skating and hold hands with someone under the moonlight.

I don't know what I am going to do New Years eve. Probably sit alone and drink five bottles of champagne and pass out on the living room floor and then wake up with the worst hangover headache ever and then mope around all day thinking about how depressed I should be given the circumstances but for some reason am as happy as a little bird on a warm spring day. Yes, that sounds real good but I will first have to steal some good champagne from my parents which should be fine because my mom says she should stop drinking so much. I say I should stop drinking so little.

It is only 2:20pm. I do not believe this. Longest day ever. It is okay, I am really in no hurry to drive home in twelve inches of snow. My car has too much torque for its own good and spinning tires get old fast.

The boy has still not called. I am over it, at least I will say that until I believe it or until, you know, he actually calls. I AM irresistable. Talk about a defense mechanism. Ohhh I am mental. It is sooo much fun.

EDIT 4:18PM: Maybe it would have been better if he had not called. This is too easy. Maybe it would be better if he weren't so nice. I read an article the other day on msn.com about the five types of guys every woman should date. Total bullshit. It was suggested that once you date a nice guy it makes all other guys suck in comparison. NOOOO. Quite obviously, once you date a wretched excuse for a human being all other guys seem disgustingly nice and all you want is someone to say "i fcuking hate you and hope you die" and then ten minutes later take off your clothes. Obviously.