Every once in awhile, I will come across something that strikes me as funny and think “Hmm, this is funny. I want to be able to read it again later. Or read something by this person again.” And I’ll make a copy of the link and save it as a draft. And then I’ll completely forget about it. Until months later, when I’m wandering around, searching through my posts for something (if only I would finish my stupid categories) and I’ll come across it again. And then I’ll read it again and think “Hey, this is funny.”

Instead of just leaving it in my drafts again, I’ve decided to post the link here because, seriously, this is funny. No clue how I found this and it really has nothing to do with the rest of this post which is about this weekend but hey, did I mention that it’s funny? It’s about what not to do on a first date and believe me, this is some good advice. Not that I think any of us would actually do this but I think I may have dated the guy that this guy who wrote it is giving the advice to. Well, maybe not. The guy who is getting the advice? He might be a bit more classy than most of the men I’ve dated.

Anyway, so I had a good weekend. Matt (the boss) gave me a ride home on Friday because I switched shifts with Jessica B and worked until 7 PM. I have mentioned that I have the best boss in the world, right? And you know it’s true because he doesn’t even read my blog so all of this sucking up is in vain (Johnny, I forgot how to do the whole strike out thing again, can you let me know? Because I wanted to put the slash through the sucking up and put praise. Or Joe? Maybe you know how to do it? And why haven’t you had a post lately? You do hate me, don’t you? No, I’m not paranoid at all).

So Friday I played online to all hours of the night (big shock), both reading blogs and playing that evil Free Cell. Saturday, Keem and I went to a store that I cannot mention because when you do talk about this store, James goes into cardiac arrest because they are apparently evil and shopping there is akin to killing small children (Hint: Starts with a W, ends with a Mart) but he’s pretty damn funny when he starts vanting so sometimes I will bring up something just to listen to him climb up on his soapbox about the W store or why a certain movie mogul is also evil (Hint: has a empire based on some movies that rhymes with Car Floors (which, honestly, I have about as much interest in watching as I would watching a movie about car floors).

After shopping, we went to eat at a Chinese restaurant that we both really like and ran into Jeff and his cousin. We then had to stop at Hancock Fabrics on the way home because Keem, who is making her Halloween costume for the Halloween party work is having next Saturday (this Saturday?), had bought all of her fabric, patterns, straight pins, etc. except for thread. Unfortunately sewing machines kind of require that you put thread in them for them to work.

I wandered around the store for awhile, looking for a tiara for my costume (Queen of the Universe but I thought I’d go for an actual tiara this year than the construction paper one I made last year), and then wandered back up to the front of the store where Keem was checking out. I then entertained myself by annoying Keem.

Here is last year’s picture.

Halloween Pic

There was a bin of fabric flowers (the small ones that you might sew onto something if you needed to sew small fabric flowers onto something) for 10 cents. While Keem was checking out, I would search through the flowers and pull one out that I thought looked interesting.

DM: Wordlessly holding up some fabric flowers for Keem to look at.
Keem: Yes.
DM: Putting the flowers back and holding up some other flowers.
Keem: I see the flowers, Dana.
DM: Putting the flowers back and holding up other flowers. This time kind of waving them in her face because she hates that.
Keem: Yes, Dana, those are pretty flowers.

I glance over at the woman standing behind Keem. She has a perplexed look on her face. It dawns on me that she might actually think that I am “special” in not the normal special way used to describe me (you know, incredibly fun and exciting and willing to turn pirouettes in a parking lot and a tree hugger) but in the mentally handicapped way. Which bothers me not at all because if you want to make snap judgements about someone just because they are having a good time driving their roommate crazy, well, that’s your problem. I’m not trying to mock anyone, mentally handicapped or otherwise, I am just the type of person that enjoys doing things a little bit different than the rest of the world. Let’s put it this way – I don’t just march to the beat of a different drummer, I have my own percussion section.

Beth has training today and had to be in Minneapolis at 8 AM. This is obviously a cruel joke visited on her by a boss with a vendetta against her (not sure who but it sounds good). Beth is not a morning person at all and doesn’t work on Mondays usually and when she does work, doesn’t start until 3 PM. So this 8 AM thing for her is complete and total torture while for me it is just a slight annoyance since I start at 8 AM every morning.

Not wanting to miss karaoke (because that would just be wrong), she had the bold plan to stay up as long as possible on Saturday night/Sunday morning and sleep as long as possible on Sunday afternoon/night and then stay up through Monday night. Now I know that this is possible to do because I was once 26 myself and did manage to stay up 24 to 48 hours in a row. But those days are far behind me.

Beth asked me to help her stay up and I, as nicely as possible, laughed in her face. I have been known to fall asleep during movies, scrapbooking and actual conversations when I have stayed over at Beth’s. Nothing can keep me awake after a certain point, not Mountain Dew, coffee, etc. My body says “Screw you, Vittum. I don’t like you anymore” and will shut down. But Beth is a good friend and so I said I would try to stay up as late as possible. I took my nap at about 8:30 PM and Beth called me at about 11:45 PM.

I was a little tired when she called and was not expecting to be very helpful at all but Beth is a tricky Beth and found the one thing that could keep me awake. She had been playing around with iTunes and discovered that she could download TV shows. Now Beth has made it quite clear to myself and our friends from karaoke that she is not overly fond of television. The only shows that she will watch, occasionally, is Law & Order & CSI: Miami (Because of the hotness of David Caruso). She did tolerate, while we were Portugal, the occasional Buffy and Angel episode but I think that was mainly because she’s polite and was humoring Johnny and I. So, when she told me that she had downloaded the entire first season of Lost, I was somewhat amazed.

James had been talking about it at karaoke about what an amazing show it was (but he used the words fucking amazing a lot (He’s a very passionate man about things, it’s quite funny)) and Beth, when she picked me up, started telling about how the show was great and wonderful and addicting and she picked up on some of his mannerisms. James kind of talks like William Shatner.

Anyway, I am here to report that the damn show is as wonderful as they both said and I am seriously addicted. And I did not fall asleep at all. At noon, I was seriously contemplating if we could watch a few more episodes. Because sleep? Who needs it? Fortunately, Beth is usually much more rational than me and it is decided that sleep is more important than the episodes because if we don’t go to bed soon, we’ll end up sleeping through karaoke. And that would be bad.

I try to fall asleep on the trundle bed in the living room but have extremely freaky dreams where all of the men from Lost start turning into monsters (did I mention Beth downloaded Thriller as well since I’d never seen it) and I keep waking up, playing a couple of games of Alchemy and then go back to bed.

At about 7:30, Beth walks into the living room. We talk a little bit, I go to shower. As I am getting dressed, I start having some problems.

My left bra strap comes loose as I am pulling it into place. No. It’s broken. Great. Beth doesn’t have a safety pin so I end up cutting off the strap (Keem asked me yesterday when I was telling about this “Why didn’t you just tie it?” My answer. “Crap. Didn’t think about that.”) and going with the one strap look bra-wise. It was quite attractive.

DM: Dammit. My bra strap broke.
B: Oh. That’s not good.
DM: Do you know what else is not good?
B: No.
DM: I forgot to bring a clean pair of underwear. So I’m going commando.
B: I’d ask you if you were free balling but you don’t have balls.
DM: No, I do not.

Karaoke was a lot of fun even though Angie and Amy were not there (Angie was sick). Karaoke is always fun.

When James got there, we let him know about how we hated him (no, not really) for making us addicted to the show. He was quite pleased to find out that we were hooked and wants us to catch up so we can talk about it next week. I have (of course, because I am a dork) started reading the transcripts to catch up on the shows that I didn’t watch with Beth. That will not stop me from reading the rest of them. If I love a show, I can watch it over and over and over again and read all the transcripts and buy novels based off the show (occasionally. I prefer the novelizations as to the novels based off (but I have a ton of Buffy books. Who is surprised by that?))) and really want to get the action figures but talk myself out of it and try to talk my sister into naming her son Joss instead of Josh (she obviously said no way in hell).

And last night I stayed up until 11:30 reading Lost transcripts and playing Free Cell. Hmm. I think I have a somewhat addictive personality. What do you think?

Looking forward to Thursday. Beth doesn’t close and so we have extra karaoke time and possibly hanging out with Liz. How cool is that?

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