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8:20 p.m. - 2005-05-16
Cats and Catastrophes
I thought my actual birthday contained enough fuckery to preclude me from being bitten in the ass on Friday the 13th.

Yeah, right.

Remember what I said about being a klutz? Well, once more, I demonstrated this in fine style.

I go home after work. I change clothes. I futz around a little. I decide my outfit needs something. I change into my hoochie jeans...the ones that are too long. Accordingly, I change into my hoochie shoes...the ones that are too tall. I put a little scarfie on as a belt. I change earrings. I spritz with my new favorite Cherry Blossom (from Bath & Body Works) splash. I apply a second coat of lipstick. Then I go to exit the bathroom.

My bathroom is a step up from my hallway. Clearly, I am not capable of navigating such a precipice in platform wedge heels. So quickly that I'm not sure exactly what happens, I twist my ankle, bang my knee, and land flat on my ass.

Keep in mind, I'm getting ready to leave to go to my birthday party. Further, I have made phone calls to the whole gang to tell them to be ON TIME because the restaurant of choice was being asshole-ish about accepting reservations. This incident takes place five minutes before we are due to walk out the door.

As quickly as possible, I hobble toward the computer and IM BFRB to ask her if she has an ace bandage. She brings it to me. I wrap my ankle. I change into the jeans I hate because I can no longer walk in the shoes necessary to wear the hoochie ones. In fact, the only shoes which fit over the bandage are my ever-popular flip-flops. While I'm hobbling (and I can barely fucking walk), my cell phone rings. TM and her new BF are downstairs, waiting. I explain the situation, and tell her I'll be down as soon as I can hobble. I carefully navigate down the WAY TOO MANY FUCKING STAIRS. We go.

Luckily, the party was good. The whole gang was in attendance. And would it be my entry with no drunken party pics? Of course not!

First, the group shots:

P & E, previously referred to as the uncles:

TM and her cool new BF:

BFRB, CL, and LN:


JS, CS (BFRB2's little sister and my Evil Twin), and AC:

I had a lovely time, but I don't think there was enough alcohol on the planet to erase the throbbing in my ankle. After we were done drinking in the Tiki Hut (which BFRB2 gave a haircut at one point, of course, when the waitress was not looking), we went to BFRB2's house for some more chitchat. On the way out to the car, BFRB twists her ankle. Luckily, it was not quite as severe, but it still hurt all weekend. We played musical ice pack.

GID finally quit being a retarded ass monkey, and took me out for a very nice lunch at my favorite restaurant on Sunday. He's not totally forgiven yet, though. I'm still a little pissy. I did discover what part of his problem was...I guess a friend of his (who is my age) had a heart attack.

Dear god, I must get with the diet and exercise program again.

Do we like the new template? I was going to leave the other one up for another month...but then I found this one. And I liked it. And not putting it up for a month would have been like buying new shoes and not wearing them the very next day.

My ankle is somewhat least I can sort of walk on it. The stairs still blow the goat ass, though. My job sucks donkey balls, too, because I have to walk back and forth between the copier and the printer and the coffee room and the smoking lounge and the accounting department all. Fucking. Day.

I'll stop with the whining now.

Finally, I found the CUTEST website through my buddy Sarah. Your KITTIES can have webpages. And for those of you misguided souls with NO kitties, they have a dog one. Check out my little meows:


If you make one, my kitties will be friends with your kitties....



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