I'm going to name my kids Ashley and Whitney. No I'm not. That's disgusting.

I love THIS!!!!!


Now. On to other news.


So.... Christine and I recently delighted in what can only be called a NINJA MISSION.


Backstory: Soooo.... Christine's WB (work boyfriend) was in Hawaii on extended vacation. When in Rome, you know. While away he texted Christine every day all "Ohhh I can't wait to see you," "I got you this great present," "Schmoozey schmoozey," "I'm oozing with charm and suave wit." So Christine was like "yeah I think I MIGHT go to WB's tonight, maybe, maybe not" but it was obvious that homegirl had somewhat planned to go to his house. However, when he got back he mysterioussssssly had other things "planned" and couldn't hang out. I don't buy it, ya slick haired weasel. And I said as much.


Christine: I wish we could like see what he's really doing.

Me: Uhhh we can.

Christine: ???

Me: Yeah. We go to his house. Put some feelers out. See whats up...

Christine: Are you inferring that we STALK him?

Me: I'm inferring that we...go for a drive, make some turns, see where life takes us. In secret.

Christine: Isn't that a little psycho?

Me: I don't see where this is going. Are we going or not?

Christine: Obviously.


So. We naturally immediately dressed in all black. And got her camera with the zoomy lens thing. We hopped on the freeway, blasting Paramore, trying to talk over it... Of course. Christine was emphatic, emphatic I tell you, that we wouldn't find anything. "This is silly. He is probably asleep. He probably hasn't texted me because he's so busy being a standup guy that it just slipped his mind that we had plans to hang out tonight." Yeah. And cats are good pets, Christine. As we were nearing his house, I started getting antsy. I was straight cracked out. On excitement and suspense of it all.


Me: What if he comes outside??

Chrsitine: Act like you lost your dog!

Me: He knows me!!

Christine: Well say he has fast legs and loves the mountain air.

Me: Ok. But I'm gonna pee.

Christine: Where??

Me: Right here!! Pull over!! I'm leaking!!


So, Christine OF COURSE doesn't pull over so I can take care of the bladder issue. Something about it being illegal. Whatever. It was pitch black. I don't even think a cop can fault a girl for needing to go when she needs to go. It's science. Yeah so I'm on the verge of bursting... but I think Christine would say the point is that when we drove by his house there was a car in the driveway!! Not HIS car. A girl car. Yes. A car that no self-respecting male would drive. At first I thought it made sense that it was WB's car but my roomie assured me its not his. Well. That has yet to be proven. But anyway. We park a reasonable distance away, down the street and on the other side of course. Next, we take some quick breathers and I try my luck again at getting the go ahead to pee on the neighbor's grass. But alas, she is still opposed. You know how when you play hide and seek and the moment you find the most deluxe hiding spot a girl can dream of, you have to pee! It's like some sort of switch your brain flips to mess with you at the most inopportune moment. That's messed up man. For cereal. Yeah so we get out of the car and sneak, ever sooooo slowly and gingerly to his front yard. Like we're literally in his front yard, 20 feet from his bedroom window. I felt fine about it but Christine was a bit jumpy. We decide to look in the car just to confirm someone's suspicions about it being a female's car. But dang it. We didn't bring a flashlight!! How could we forget that!! After I had sidled up along the car like I'm totally Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. I'm in his front yard for hecks sake and I have no flashlight? What kind of ninjas are we. Ninjas always have flashlights. But really. What would we have done with flashlights? We were laughing too hard to hold them steady anyway. I think we would have put on some sort of attention drawing light show before we actually found out anything.


Needless to say, we didn't find out any juicy info from the car. But we were lead to infer that the car belonged to a ladyfriend of WB's and thats fine. Just as we suspected. Juuuuuuuust as we suspected. Uh huh. UH. HUH.


I can't wait for another opportunity to be a ninja. I love my black pants. I think they sell those bright colored flashlights at Sev too. Score.

Thus begins the saga of a mutual hate, if you will, of WB.

I'll do my best Velociraptor impression

Conversations Amanda and I had today, at work, in passing:


Christine: Hey, let's create online personas and become youtube sensations
Amanda: K, but I wanna be a rapper.
Christine: No, I was gonna be a rapper.
Amanda: I'm not doing it unless I can be a rapper.
Christine: FINE. I'll be a wacky German.

----------------------------

This is while we were discussing which clients we would choose as boyfriends based on varying characteristics, ie. bald, voluntarily bald, mormon, fed-ex guy, etc.

Christine: Okay, but can you actually imagine breaking up a happy home?
Amanda: Ugh. NO. I'm busy, I got things to do. Hustlers gotta hustle.
Christine: Word. But seriously! I don't care who it is- that's just wrong. Even if it was Brad Pitt. I'd be like "No, Brad. No. Cut it out with your persistent kisses and kindly remove yourself from my penthouse loft with bamboo flooring."
Amanda: Oooh, bamboo! Very nice!

Oh Thursday night, you Saucey Wench

Actual Conversation Amanda and I had yesterday:

Me: Are you gonna give blood at the blood drive tomorrow?
Amanda: Helllllll no, are you?
Me: Of course! The world needs blood. You should too.
Amanda: No way. I'll pass out. I'll freak out. I'll start hyperventilating.
Me: What if you're a rare blood type?
Amanda: I don't give a seanvote.
Me: Well, they're giving away a flat screen TV and we could really use one! Come on, come on come on comeoncomeoncomeon.
Amanda: No. Case closed.
Me: SIIIIIIIIIGH. Fine, I'll just have to donate my life-giving blood twice. I'll be saving widows and orphans if you need me...


Actual Conversation Amanda and I had this morning:

Amanda: So, you giving blood today or what?
Me: Nah.
Amanda: Ohhhhh? Why not, you were all about it yesterday.
Me: Was I? That doesn't sound like me.
Amanda: yessssssssssssss, so why no blood now?
Me: wellllllllllllllll... I just don't think my blood would be any good today.
Amanda: What do you mean?
Me: I just don't want to have to ask the phlebotomist if it's cool to give blood when I did 4 shots of tequila and had 3 beers last night.
Amanda: Good call.

This is my life, y'all.

So that moderately boring date I went on? The one that I was trying to get out of and then was fairly neutral about the result? Yeah. Well, yesterday that fool cruised off the elevator and into the lobby of my place of work on a razor scooter. Let me repeat that- RAZOR SCOOTER. Random dude I went out with. In my lobby. On a scooter made for a 7 year old. Right. So, that was awkward. What am I even supposed to say? "Nice ride" ? "Good to see you again" ??? Because, I assure you, it was not good to see him again, especially not with what was he was rollin' in on. This isn't really going anywhere-- this is just an aside, by the way.

So, last night, as I was making my delicious dinner by warming up a Lean Cuisine Pepperoni Pizza and cutting up some veggies, I was thinking about how much I've grown since I first moved into my own place. I mean, I used to exclusively eat Lean Pockets and ice cream for crying out loud, and I never used an iron, but now I TOTALLY iron my clothes if they're out-of-control wrinkly. And veggies!?!?! Psh! Who am I?? My mother??? I sometimes go to bed at a responsible hour, I do my laundry fairly regularly, I have a pretty good handle on dishes, and I only eat ice cream as a meal on rare occasions. I guess this is me as a grown up. BASK.

Then this morning I totally got goosebumps listening to the new Justin Beiber song and realized that I'm basically an 11-year-old with a job.



Meow, Justin. Me. Yow.

Updated: I just watched this video AGAIN with Amanda, and besides almost peeing our pants with excitement, I totally got full-body goosebumps again. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??