Happy Holla Dayz!

All I Want for Christmas

Have you heard of Elfster.com? I hadn't either until my family decided that this year we would do a secret santa gift exchange instead of everyone buying for everyone. My step-sister Jennifer found Elfster, which randomly assigns names, lets you set up a wish list, and even lets you anonymously ask your person questions.

You know there was way too much potential for me to be a complete smart ass. Here's my wishlist. (You have to click on every link.)

http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=8832950

http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=9107859

http://shopping.discovery.com/product-65909.html?jzid=40600652-0-0

http://winningisforthebirds.com/

http://www.footballfanatics.com/NFL_Philadelphia_Eagles/Philadelphia_Eagles_Fan_Helmet_Hat

http://farm1.static.flickr.com/188/365838782_c1b3f8d2ec.jpg?v=0

Elfster has standard questions you can ask your person, such as, "Who are your favorite authors?" or "What size shirt do you wear?", boring things like that. You know I had to spice it up a bit, so I asked my person the following:

"What do you want for Christmas?"

I'm all about taking the easy way out.

Of Absolutely Zero Interest or Importance

Recently, someone told me that I should write a book from my blog and become famous for it. I reminded this person that there's no way I could become famous from my blog because seriously, nothing interesting or blog worthy has happened to me for a long time. I'm in one serious dry spell. She then tried to convince me that even the not-interesting-not-blog-worthy stuff that happens to me can be funny and interesting to people.

You asked for it, you got it.

Please to enjoy the not-interesting-not-blog-worthy highlights of my life from the past month, in no particular order and completely not-smoothly-tied-together.

I went through a bad eating-Burger-King-in-bed-every-night phase. And by this I mean the drive thru guys knew me, they stopped charging me for cheese on my Whopper, and I was waking up with sesame seeds stuck to my thigh. Seriously.

Someone said to me, "Sorry I peed on you," and I won't go in to detail, but they really had accidentally peed on my shoe.

The bathroom at work has one of those automatic spritzing air fresheners mounted to the wall. But I swear it only spritzes when I'm sitting in there. Like clockwork, I'll sit down, and one minute later it spritzes...like it knows or something. Then it doesn't do it again the whole time I'm in there. But every time I pop a squat, no matter what time it is, that thing spritzes...I'm starting to take offense to it.

Someone said to me, "Sorry I blew snot on you," because I'd pinched his nostrils shut, which prompted him to blow out really hard, which blew snot on my hand, which caused me to start dry heaving, which taught me to never ever pinch anyone's nostrils shut ever again.

Back in September, I got a call from one of the subcontractors that works on our jobsites. He was calling to invite me to his company Christmas party. Again, he called me in September, which was so far in advance that I didn't have any legitimate reason to say no. So I used that as my excuse to stall - it was so far in advance that I didn't know what would be going on that night, but I told him I'd call him back and let him know.

So why would this be blog worthy? Let me start by saying that this guy is a very nice guy, always polite and nice to me. Very nice. But he's close to fifty years old, and is missing his front teeth. Plus I work with his company closely and know lots of their employees. Plus other employees told me that he usually takes questionable ladies to their Christmas party. And by questionable, I mean loose. Plus they all told me that this guy has a tendency to get absolutely wasted and sloppy and handsy at their parties.

So since September, it's been a joke on the jobsite about me going as this guy's date. Even his bosses were calling to give me a hard time about it. I finally decided that I would just be open minded and try something new, so I called him last week and apologized for taking so long to get back to him, but that if the invitation was still open, I'd love to go to his Christmas party.

Which is when he told me that he wasn't even sure if he could go, because he was supposed to have his kids that night. Which to me means that I took so long getting back to him that he found another questionable lady to take. Which is just fine with me, except that now I've been turned down by a fifty year old man with no front teeth. So I'll add that to my resume.

And that's all she wrote, folks!