Whine & Cheese Anyone?

Last night, I was not alllll by myself.  Instead, I went to a jewelry party with my new friend.  And I had fun.  And I bought some jewelry.  I got some lapis earrings to match my favoritest necklace in the whole world.  And some other jewelry for myself.  And then, I bought a present for someone else.  Which is pretty, and pretty much takes care of all only a tiny portion of my holiday shopping.  And then I decided that as much as I love everyone, no one gets presents this year.  Except me.  Ummm…so, everyone can buy me presents (because the novelty of the wedding gifts is wearing off, except for my remaining miniature bottles of liquor, which continue to delight me every time I see them, not that I ever stomp walk around my house with said bottles booming “I AM A GIANT!”when no one else is home.  Because that would be weird).

Today is my first official day with health insurance, even though I can’t prove it with cards or anything, but now I am free to actually get hurt.  So I celebrated by knocking a stack of heavy boxes filled with mice poop on my head and then falling on my ass in the mice poop.  I know!  I am the coolest ever, and you all want to be me.  Fortunately, I did not hurt myself (although I’m sure that there will be some pretty bruises) enough to need to use my new medical insurance.  And bruises can be soaked away in the large claw foot tub with (I’m hoping) endless supplies of hot water that will be in my room tonight.  I bought my last bath bomb given to me by the wonderful Maida.

And, last night, I got to talk to my friend Kris (although I missed her call back, and then was sad) and my friend Brad and have wine (no cheese, though) and have burritos.  I may or may not have cried a lot, but now I am insured, so maybe I can find some exciting drugs to make the sad/SAD go away.

Only a couple more hours of work, and then off to relaxation.  I packed two bags for my 2-night trip.  But – only two pairs of shoes.

Here’s hoping that a nice, relaxing weekend, far away from my dirty apartment, will help bring cheerful back (we’ll worry about bringing sexy back after we get over our intense disappointment that Britney is skankier than Paris now, and all our hopes for her comeback are slowly being dashed).

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