The Lip

Hey, do you guys remember when Swistle posted about her daughter and "The Lip"? And oh how we chuckled, and closed our browsers, and went on with our days, all, "SUX TO BE YOU! Good luck with that Lip thing!"*

Yeah. Ermm.

I ask you. What could possibly be her problem when she's wearing the World's Cutest Outfit? IT HAS A COORDINATING NECKTIE, for fuck's sake!

*Possibly was just me

Yes, this srsly IS what I'm posting

You guys. Look at the size of this fucking coffee. I mean, it reminds me of the GRAIN SILOS back home:

Amount of time today spent McGyvering (totally a word) office supplies* just so I could include them "for scale": mumblemumbleDIVORCECARD minutes

Amount of time today spent WORKING: Erm.

*Ideas considered and rejected: affixing paper clip to table with CHEWED GUM (too early for gum), propping BUSINESS CARD in front (too stupid, even for me), placing coffee next to SEVERED HEAD for comparison purposes (office scissors too blunt for severing).

Fun Fact Friday-European Vacation Edition

*I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I was the only person in all of London-slash-Paris who was NOT sporting skinny jeans. Well, except for a few other Lame Americans. YOU WILL KNOW US BY OUR BOOT-CUTS, people.

*While I (inexplicably) don't mind the Leggings Phenomenon, I'm afraid I still cannot stomach skinny jeans, even while holding my nose. It is just TOO SOON, ya know? I'm not ready.

*We took the STAIRS to the top of the Eiffel Tower, while carrying two days' worth of luggage on our decidedly non-packmulish backs. THANK YOU STAIRMASTER!

*A couple I was friends with in college got engaged at the top of the Eiffel Tower. She was on vacation with her family, and he showed up (in Paris! At the top of the Eiffel effing Tower!) to surprise her. To this day, it's probably the best engagement story I've ever heard.

*Turns out I require upwards of a QUARTER-CUP of mayonnaise to properly consume an order of "frites" at a Belgian restaurant.

*I am utterly unable to master the mechanics of chopsticks, even under threat of certain humiliation and before my first glass of wine. I just...HOW? And why does it look SO EASY? Am I...*gasp* TRYING TOO HARD slash OVERTHINKING? Surely not. That would be most unlike me. AND YET.

*The British make liberal use of the word "fuck", and I don't think I have to tell you how well this suits me. I sigh happily even now just thinking of it. My favorite usage by far is, "OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE!". Hee!

*If you are short, you may as well skip the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace. I'm just sayin. You will be able to watch it in the viewing panes of other people's cameras, and...that's about it.

*The only souvenir I regret not buying is a pink "This is my dance space" tank top from the Dirty Dancing musical we saw in London (OMG IT WAS SO GOOD I LOVED IT SO MUCH).

*In all my life, I have never known anyone as generous and fun-loving as my friend Woz. I wish for all of you to have the type of friend who would book you a plane ticket to London (also: PARIS!) on a moment's notice, based only on your shitty day and a desire to drink with you in person. Woz puts people before money every. single. time, and that's just one of the many things I lurve about her (also: the fact that neither of us will ever, EVER be president due to a wide variety of shenanigans).

Thanks, man. You always know just what to do.

Look Kids! Big Ben! Empty Blog Space!

SOOOO. Tessie went to Europe and all you got was, well, one half-assed "Tweet" (Le Sigh) and stony silence in response to your lovely emails and comments. WELL DONE ME.

I've got some totally kick-ass accents to make fun of, but also ONE-HUNDRED and SIXTY SEVEN emails (true fucking story), so I'm afraid in the grand tradition of lame post-vacation blog posts I'm going to have to leave you with this, and only this:

Go ahead, you fuckers. Tell me ALL ABOUT how different I look. YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO.