Birthday Week Finale

80s Power Ballad Sing Along

That’s right.  You wish you were this cool.  

Tonight starts with a Young Execs happy hour, which we’ll be pretending is a birthday party for me!  Strangely, Longhorn Nation is ALSO planning to be at 219, so it will be EXTRA special!  Woohoo!

I’m a little worn out from all of the birthday partying.  Perhaps an entire birthday week is too much for me.  I was good after a birthday weekend.  Though, I wouldn’t want to miss tonight for all the tea in China!

***********

In other news, don’t expect a Guest Blog from Jumpee today, and don’t give him any shit about it, either.  If you know the guy, you know the reason. . . if not, just believe me, it’s good enough. 

Lots of hugs & love to you, Jumpee.  I hope I’ll see you tonight. 

Things that fall under “WTF?”

 All of the sudden, I’m missing 6 butter knives.  WTF? 

My own father has still not called to wish me a happy birthday. . . my birthday was 2 days ago.  WTF?

People didn’t take me seriously when I said the 80s Power Ballad Sing Along would sell out.  WTF?

Do those [socks] glow in the dark?  WTF?

Add your own. . . just for kicks.

30

So, it really is pretty much exactly like I thought.  I’ve been in bed all day, my feet are murder, my back aches, my eyes want to stay shut, I can actually feel death taking over my body.  Welcome to Old!

I actually had quite possibly the best time of my life last night.  I don’t remember much, and I hear I was falling a lot, but I do know that my face hurts and I’m guessing it’s from all of the laughter.  I also know that I got Super Smokin’ Hot Abs guy to display said abs.  And, I really did forget the alphabet. 

What more can a girl ask for?  Maybe some aspirin and a massage. . .

Something’s in the water

Everyone I know has instantly become pregnant.  I’m not kidding.  In the past week, I’ve received 4 pregnancy announcements from friends. 

THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THERE’S WEATHER IN AUSTIN!

I just wanted to let you all know that I am most certainly NOT pregnant, being as I have not participated in any sort of baby-making activity anytime in the remotely recent past.  *sigh*

I’m just waiting for Bob to tell me she’s knocked up.  That would be awesome the end of the world hilarious.

I think this is just another prank God’s playing on me.  He’s all, “Ha ha ha, Snippy!  You’re 30 and you don’t have any babies!  I’ll make everyone around you have babies just to make sure you’re that much more acutely aware of how far you are from having babies!  Happy Birthday!”

What God doesn’t know is that he can screw with me all week long and I won’t care.  This has already been the best birthday ever in the history of Snippy birthdays.  Not that I’ve ever had a bad birthday.  This one’s just better.  Already.  And, it’s not even my birthday yet.

Take that, all you baby making machines.

Oh yeah, and congratulations!

Birthday Wish List

In case you’ve been agonizing over what sort of fantastic gift to give me for my birthday, which is just 2 days away, here are some things I could use:

Ironing board (Bob graciously bestowed upon me a handy dandy iron for Christmas. . . before owning an iron, I didn’t realize I was missing an ironing board)

$7,000,000 (feel free to pool together with friends on this one)

Haircut

Dancing shoes

Hot pink, feathered mini-skirt

Laptop

Clown Costume, blow torch, and duct tape bleach (don’t ask)

An effective means of dealing with clueless men

Are you kidding? I don’t have time to blog.

Internet Dudes,

Life has been kicking my ass, y’all.  Not in the “life is kicking my ass” way that means everything sucks, because everything doesn’t suck.  More in the “life is kicking my ass” way that just means I’m so busy I can’t find time to blog.

This is good and bad.  I thrive on chaos, so it’s good.  BUT!  I have no time to blog, it’s bad!

Let’s just recap really quickly.  There was Christmas.  And, you know where to find me during Christmas season.  I’m knee deep in baskets, and tied up in sparkly ribbon, and am often babbling incoherent strings of words that make little to no sense and often include, “cheese . . . pretty. . . stupid. . . late. . . people. . . chocolate. . . bow. . . die”.

Then, after Christmas, I headed to Indiana.  And, Indiana was supposed to be downtime during which I could blog about Indiana.  Ha!  Fat chance, sucker!

Then I got stuck in stupid Dallas.  Let’s not even talk about that.

Then, it was Bob’s birthday week! 

Now, it’s MY birthday week!

See?  There just hasn’t been time.

Luckily, my birthday week is full of fantastic, magical, fun going-ons. . . which should lead to some blog content.  I hope. 

If not, I’ll just quit because I’ve really sucked lately.

Jumpee Guest Blog Week 6

Snippy Note:  My apologies for the tardiness of this entry.  Jumpee did, indeed, send it to me in time, but some of us have business and stuff to conduct, and didn’t have time to mess with things like blogs today.  Enjoy. . .

Edited to add:  And, it didn’t copy and paste right, so it looks all funky but being as it’s 3am and I have a big day ahead of me tomorrow, I’m gonna go ahead and call this not important enough to deal with right now.  More apologies.

*************************************

In a time before there was time, I was a different person.  Truthfully I was mostly
who I am today, but the decisions I made were not tempered with the age and
experience that I have acquired since.  I was, to put it bluntly, an asshole.  But
enough about me, this is story is about a couple that lives happily ever in spite of
a plot to destroy their engagement.  Who, might you ask, was behind this nefarious
plot?  Why, you’re good friend Jumpee….

*audible gasp from the audience*

Maybe I should begin with my second favorite book of all time: Bring Me The Head
of Prince Charming. My favorite book of course being: The Monstor at the
End of This Book…  That Grover…  He just didn’t want me to turn the page
again, but I wouldn’t listen.  I was so precocious and…wait, what…oh yeah.  So
in BMtHoPC,  the demon Azzie Elbub tries to prove that the whole happily
ever after fairy tale is a myth.  He sets in motion a sleeping beauty fairy tale
with all of the pieces built and rigged by him a la Frankenstein.  Azzie was
determined to prove the myth a failure, yet fails miserably. In him, however, I had
my muse.

My best friend is Chris.  As long as I’d known him, he was engaged to Erin.  However
as they got closer to the date of their impending nuptials, I was seeing less and
less of my wingman, my com padre, my best friend.  During those days I was consumed
with the power of being a local club celebrity at Polly Esthers.  You think I’m
cocky now….LOL  So I thought if I made my case, my best friend would realize the
mistake of getting married and come to his senses.  Together we could have ruled the
Austin club scene.  Sadly *at the time* this was not the case.  Chris had decided to
get maried at the young age of 24 and RUIN all of MY partying.  Then I remembered
Azzie.

*maniacal laughter, fade to black and director shouts CUT*

All I needed was a plan.  I had to break up this senseless marriage and return my
best friend to his rightful spot along side me at the bars picking up random women.
The plan I settled on was simple.   How could a woman love a man that would openly
lie to her?  *experience has since taught me that this is a common occurrence..
LOL*  But how to do it…?

Like many couples, Chris and Erin had a few wedding registries around town.  There
were the normal housewares and the such on the list, but nothing his guy friends
would get him.  So I got all of our friends together and said we should get Chris
something from HIS friends like a xbox.  Our mutual friends were all for it, so now
my plan was in motion.  Chris and I worked together and one day as we were goofing
off at work playing Quake, I informed him that I wasn’t going to get him any of
that…. I believe the words I used at the time were, “punk ass shit from that
registry that I know you don’t want”.  I told him that we would buy him a xbox, xbox
Live and some games….all he had to do was go create a *quotation fingers*
SECRET*quotation fingers* registry that Erin didn’t know about and
we would be happy to purchase these items for his wedding.  The next day at
lunch, the registry was uploaded onto Target.com.  LOL

Now here is where it gets funny.  Fast forward until about a month away from the
wedding.  Chris is at his parents house with his wife-to-be cooking dinner.
Everything is going fine until Erin’s phone rings.  Chris at the time thinks nothing
of it and continues cooking as Miss Erin goes into the computer room.  He couldn’t
see what was going on, but then Erin calls for Chris’ mom to come look at something.
HAHAHAHAHAHA  Chris stays in the kitchen minding his own business and then he hears
the words, “Hey Chris, do you know anything about a registry for us on Target.com?”
*I didn’t mean for him to lie to his mom too…*  Now even I would have had to fess
up to my mom, but Chris stayed strong.  *idiot…LOL*  “No ma’am”, he says.  It had
their wedding date, both of their names and all of these XBOX games.  Erin and his
mom both come into the kitchen and Chris is trapped.  Finally he confesses that
JUMPEE made him do it.  I think his ears are still ringing from that tongue lashing

*I still can’t believe he sold me out…  that’s why the mafia is falling apart now;
no loyalty.  sheesh*

Apparently this still wasn’t enough to get Erin and Chris to break up and I’m
thankful for that every day.

*takes a shot at softening the blow of how much of a dick he used to be by including
pictures of babies….LOL*

Because without their marriage Erin, Chris and I wouldn’t be such great friends
today and I wouldn’t have the most beautiful niece in the world…

Kaleigh McKenzie

Some people are quitters.

Jumpee is one of them.

I know that half of you come here to read Jumpee Wednesdays. . . and couldn’t care less about anything I have to say.  To you, I apologize. 

I’ve run Jumpee off.  Well.  I mean, honestly, he threw a rock at me first.  Then, I chased after him with a stick.  Then he pulled a knife on me.  And, well, you know me, I ninja kicked the knife out of his hand and set him on fire.  That’s what happens when you’re mean to me.  Just FYI.

So, he ran off crying like a big baby and for the second week in a row, he’s failed to produce any content for Jumpee Wednesdays.  If he hadn’t quit, I damn well may have fired him.  Being cute only gets you so far, Jumpee.  For real.

A responsible blogger would have backup content on hand, ready to share.  I am not a responsible blogger.  If you don’t know that by now, I think you might be a little slow.

I hate to steal your thunder, sister, but . . .

. . . it looks like my birthday is now officially in full force!

I was just gonna take the 28th-3rd for a birthday week, and at that, I thought I was possibly pushing it a bit.  A whole week?  For a birthday?  I never. . .

UNTIL!  Until I received a bouquet of white tulips TODAY, a full 6 days prior to my birthday, effectively jump starting the entire birthday celebratory period.

I’m not going to broadcast who these tulips were from. . . but know that they’re here, and if you didn’t send them to me, you’ve got some catching up to do. . . particularly if you’re a man who intends to speak to me ever again for as long as I live.

My apologies to Bob, who was likely hoping to ride her birthday for a few more days. . .

Bob’s Birthday

Alright. . . so, you may have noticed that I haven’t even begun to catch up with vacation posts.  I know, I know.  I’m slacking.  It’s hard to catch up when you leave for a long time.  Give me a break! 

Pretend like you’re not waiting for vacation stories, and fast forward to the weekend immediately past.  HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. 

You know it will be no small affair when Bob has a birthday.  That’s just how it is. 

Her actual birthday was Friday.  That did not stop us from starting the party Thursday night and carrying it right on through Sunday evening. 

I did almost punch her on approximately 7,000 occasions when she repeatedly mentioned how OLD she is.  You may or may not be aware that Bob turned a whopping 25 years old Friday.  Compare that to the impending doom I’m facing this weekend, and tell me it’s even remotely acceptable for her to complain.  For real.  Ugh.

So, here’s what happened.

Thursday:
For some reason, we agreed to meet out two of the most obnoxious, rude men I’ve ever known in my life.  It was Bob’s birthday, so I wasn’t going to complain.  But, damn!  They didn’t disappoint with their jackassery!  Grr!

They also didn’t disappoint with their buying of drinks all night long.  So, we’ll call it even.  I guess.

Jerkface joined us later in the evening, but I mostly don’t remember much about the time he was there. . . except that I thought Obnoxious Guy #1 should have punched him for being such a tool, and I was surprised when both of them acted like complete girls and pretended to like each other.   Guys are so lame.

Mr. Bob came out much later, did nothing to stop my ridiculous behavior, and served essentially no purpose other than looking good.  We’ll forgive him because he made up for it Saturday by ensuring our safe return home.

Friday:
Please, picture the scene:  Cheesy bar; cheesier band of white boys who honestly, honestly covered freaking Usher and 50 Cent and followed it with NIN; Bob and crew being the youngest in the place, EASY; and no one up for heavy drinking.

Basically, we spent the evening watching people make fools of themselves.  We laughed. . . oh, how we laughed!  I’m not sure why we laugh at drunken idiots when the possibility that other people regularly laugh at us is so high.

The highlight of Friday night had to be the two-toed sloth.  You think I’m kidding?  Ask Bob.  Or Jumpee.  Before our very own six eyes was a two-toed sloth.  No, we were not drunk.  I already told you no one was up for heavy drinking.  Apparently, and I’ll do my best to refrain from a soap box rant, but apparently, someone finds it perfectly acceptable to cage a two-toed sloth up in a glass box at a pet store for the world to see.  Entertaining, yes.  No doubt about it.  But, who is going to buy a sloth?  Just think about it.  Do you think an upper-class, educated, well-informed, animal lover will buy that sloth?  Oooor, do you think some idiotic redneck dumbass with 8 missing teeth and an extra room in his trailer will buy the sloth?  I’ll place my bet on the redneck, and I’ll bet that poor sloth will find it’s way lost out in the Texas wilderness after approximately 8 months when Mr. Redneck realizes the novelty of a sloth is not what he thought it would be.  ARGH!

ANYWAY.  Jumpee joined us out, and much to my surprise, Jumpee and Bob actually like each other.  How that happened, I’ll never know.

Saturday:
We started with dinner at a swanky little restaraunt that had us waiting 2 hours for a table. 

My favorite guy ever in the whole world joined us, and damn near made me piss myself because he never does anything fun.  So, woohoo!

This swanky little restaraunt serves some killer margaritas.  I did us all proud by knocking one over, sending it spilling across the table.  Because it’s just not a birthday party until someone’s too drunk to hold their drink.  Or their best friend’s drink that they’re attempting to steal.  Either way.

We headed from there to downtown and to be honest, I don’t really remember much of what happened from that point forward.  I remember forcing my favorite guy ever in the whole world to do a shot of tequila after much objection.  I remember Jumpee coming . . . and leaving. . . and coming back. . . and leaving.  I remember uuuuuuum, OH!!!  Go Fish!  Yes!  The Bobs and I played Go Fish! when we got home.  And, if you haven’t played some drunken Go Fish! with monkey shaped playing cards, well then, my friend, you haven’t lived. 

I slept most of Sunday away, right up until the glorious Colts game that gave me a year’s worth of bragging rights.  Who even cares if they lose the big game?  They beat the Patriots. . . AGAIN.  And, I’m sorry, but if you know Bob, you know that it’s just about the best ever in the whole world to not have to listen to her gloat.  Yaaaay, Colts!

So, anyway, Happy Birthday, Bob! 

Stay tuned as we attempt to sleep this week away, only to do it all again next week for my birthday.  My big, end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it birthday.  The one where I turn OLD.

The ONLY thing that matters right now. . .

. . . is that the Colts are going to the Superbowl!!!

Well.  It also matters that the Colts beat the shit out of the Patriots. . . AGAIN. . . and Bob should really stop being so cocky about her Patriots if they’re going to continue to let us eat them alive.  But, you know. . . bygones.

GO COLTS!!!

I’m baaaaaack!

My apologies, Internet, for the complete lack of updating this blog has experienced.  I kinda thought I’d blog while I was away. . . I kinda dropped the ball on that.

So, I’m back, thank GOD, and I have so much to tell you!  But, I’m going to have to do it in bits and pieces so you don’t get bored. 

The first thing I need to address is the exceedingly lame excuse that Jumpee is claiming for his lack of a Wednesday blog.  *rolls eyes*

See.  I was supposed to get back to Austin on Tuesday.  But, then Austin had some weather, and Austin doesn’t know how to deal with weather.  This city shuts down if a cloud approaches.  *sigh*  So, all flights to Austin were cancelled, and I found myself stuck in Dallas. 

Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m sure Dallas is a very nice city full of very nice people.  But, I hate Dallas.  I hate Dallas now, and I will hate Dallas forever.

Lucky for me, our very own Jumpee was also stuck in Dallas. . . all week, on business.  So, instead of crawling into a deep, dark depression corner and sleeping at the Dallas airport, I got to hang out with Jumpee Tuesday night and Wednesday until I finally got a flight to Austin at 10pm Wednesday night.

ANYWAY.  He’s claiming that my presence prevented him from writing a blog entry.  I’m accepting that excuse because, and only because, I am extremely grateful that I did not have to sleep on the dirty, hard floor of the Dallas airport.  But, I’m giving you, Internet, the opportunity to make your own decision about whether or not that’s a valid excuse. 

(seriously, my sweet Jumpee, I very much appreciate your kindness and generosity.  Even though you did bitch about it the entire time, and you made it clear that I was hideous when I got in . . . so much so that you couldn’t be seen with me, and you made me go without socks for the sake of your image, and your car hates me, and you keep your hotel room at a ridiculous 98 degrees. . . no really, thanks)