You want a blog? I’ll give you a blog.

Today I tried to send an email to one of my co-workers about another one of my co-workers. But INSTEAD, I sent it to the person I was writing about. It wasn’t nice either. Did I mention she went to my boss with it? Oops.

I can’t stop thinking about Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing and Richard Gere in Pretty Woman. On Sunday night I flipped between the two movies and had several mental orgasms. I might have taken them physical if I weren’t so disgustingly lazy. Which one of these men is sexier? I can’t decide.

I want to go on a vacation. Away from here. For just a weekend. Las Vegas, New York, Orlando, San Diego, Louisville freakin’ Kentucky – I’m not picky. However, this isn’t going to happen for a while.

I am being inundated with calls from people who want to have their weddings here and who want to hold blocks of rooms for their wedding guests. Our wedding coordinator is out of the office for the week, which leaves me fighting for air and hoping I don’t screw something up really, really bad. Brides seem to think their weddings should be perfect. Whatever. On a similar note, I very badly want to get married. Secret’s out! I feel like once that happens, I can continue on with my life. My wedding, of course, will have to be perfect…or I’ll have to be too intoxicated to realize it isn’t.

Rachel got married a couple of weeks ago and gosh was she gorgeous. Chris also looked strapping, all spiffed up. Maybe I want to get married because I think it’ll make me beautiful like them. Dream on, huh?

I can’t diet. I can’t fucking do it anymore and laws is it frustrating.

On Sunday, Darren and I went to Mall of America and acted like a couple of tourists, going rides at Camp Snoopy and checking out Underwater Adventures (what a ripoff). I’ve never had the stomach for rides and even the lame-o rides at Camp Snoopy made me squeal. I get nervous having over 400 pounds in one car on any ride. Wouldn’t you think one little car holding 400 pounds on a rollercoaster would derail the whole damn thing, sending it crashing into plastic treetops and splashing into the murky, disease-ridden Paul Bunyan Log Chute water? My tummy is still recovering, but don’t you worry – it hasn’t kept me from eating (see paragraph above).

This my life. This is why I never blog.