Cleaned Out
I'm a bad blogger. I have so many pictures to show, so many half-written entries to post, and yet I don't because I'm spending all my time cleaning and organizing my apartment in anticipation of next Tuesday, when I will host the inaugural Whiskey Night at my place. Weeks and weeks ago I invited two coworkers over, one of whom wants me to teach her how to love whiskey and the other of whom just wants to see the inside of my apartment because it's been shrouded in mystery for so long. So in place of hearing stories about how I went to Safeway in my Halloween costume when it was not Halloween or seeing pictures of the velvet-walled, bordello-licious women's bathroom beyond the saloon doors at the strip mall, this is what you get instead. Half a sentence about how the brown gunk around the burners on my range actually comes off with scrubbing, and one picture of my lunch at work yesterday:
The rule was that everyone eating pizza must also drink wine. Not bad for a Monday, eh?
Now back to cleaning the apartment and practicing my hostess skills. Anyone know where I can find palazzo pants?
Wine and pizza? On Monday? At work!? Where do I sign?
I love fresh tomatoes on pizza! And I want to learn how to love whiskey too.
So I ask myself, "what are palazzo pants?" as I am not the most fashion-sensible girl in the world. So I Googled.
You must be kidding. People actually wear stuff like that? Further proof (the election being the most salient evidence in recent memory) that there are some really mentally deficient folks out there.
Oh my gosh. And I thought I was hungry a minute ago. How fair is that? It's not fair at all!
Except that I have every Monday off. :-)