I read a number of blogs (I'm sure I'll tell you about them at some point in the future, but right now this is MY show!), and am always a little horrified by how much they seem to have to talk about. Do they lead such busy, interesting lives, I wonder, or do they enjoy sweatpants as much as I do? Do they glitz up and go out on the town every night for these fascinating stories, or are they more like myself, taking some sick delight in how long I can push off showering. God, my poor boyfriend. The man is a saint!
This is NOT a blog of someone with too much to do. More like, I have too little to do, and will delight in telling you of all the minutia that makes up my day. To start:
I'm vegan. Sort of. Real vegans of the world will hate me for declaring that, but I don't know what else to call myself. I don't eat animal products, but I slaver for seafood and still, after 2 years, miss it desperately, and I DO eat honey. I do! Fuck the bees! Sure, I'm as big a fan of pollination as the next person, but I don't enjoy always having to carry an Epi pen around with me. Hard to carry some cute little clutch, when you have some ridiculously large needle to tote around with you. Speaking of which, where the hell IS that thing? Well, back to the point, I'm mostly vegan....for all intents and purposes. Did I do this as some large moral gesture, to either save the animals, or the environment, or both? No. Those are wonderful by-products, but I really did it for a man. That's right. My boyfriend, Collin, has been a vegan (the real kind) for 15 years, and really I just wanted to be able to eat off his plate when we go out to eat. Yes. I really AM that greedy.
Knowing that about me, I can now tell you about my latest vegan/bad manners fiasco. It happened only about an hour ago, and so should be fresh enough in my mind to not require too many exaggerations.
My co-worker was insisting I eat some of the chocolate they have here in the office. She knows I can't (I've even gone far enough to lie to her, claiming lactose intolerance), but she doesn't like to eat alone. On top of the candy, she was also making some hot chocolate, which she proceeded to wave around like it was on fire, trying to make her point that my inability to eat dairy was all in my head. In her excitement, some of the hot chocolate spilled over and 5 big drops
landed on my white shirt. So, not only do I not get to eat the chocolate, but now I have to stare at it's remainders all day. Did this piss me off. Not as such, but there was a split second there where I went all Grey's Anatomy with the, "Really? REALLY??" But that passed quickly. If you're now wondering if I am that person...the one that would forget all her manners in the face of a few drops of chocolate and try to suck it out of her shirt in the middle of the office, then you'll just have to ask my co-worker, who may or may not have witnessed such an event.I feel a raise coming on!
Coming up:
*Did you ever wonder if she's the kind of person that purchases a huge, 60 count, pack of Airheads and then hides them from her boyfriend and eats them all herself?
*What the hell are pool sharks?
*What exactly makes a cat an asshole?
These, and more questions answered!
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