How have I not blogged about the good times of late? Seriously, get with the program.

First of all, I went to what might have been Nic’s band’s last show ever and I was sort of obnoxious and a girl told me to shut up and I told her to shove it, not because I’m brave or was looking for a fight, but because I knew she couldn’t hear me over the music/my screaming. That I night I had a little tequila, a little vodka, a little wine (a bottle, whatever), a little beer. The next day I had the barfs. ALL DAY, the barfs. It started with an orange juice gurge in the kithen sik when Nico and Nij were in the bathroom and it continued throughout the day until bedtime. Neither Grandma’s wild rice soup nor sleeping on Nico’s driveway couldn’t cure this raging case of the barfs. I was at a loss.

Do you know what part was even more fun? The ‘hound ride back to Minneapolis the next morning. Then leaving work 25 minutes after I arrived (four hours late) on the first day our new GM was here. First impressions are everything, right? Our new DOS started on Wednesday too. Let’s see how long these ones last.

AND THEN

Last weekend I went to Tower and realized my niece is the cutest baby in the world. Who knew? Her cuteness was almost surpassed for weekend highlight by Angie’s run-in with the bat on Saturday morning. Thank goodness Darren saved the day, but only after we got a half dozen quality texts to landline from Angie, who was hidden under her covers and suffering from heat stroke as the bat staked his claim in her room. Mom and I darn near peed our pants until the bat made its way upstairs and Mom dropped the f-bomb more than I’ve ever heard her drop it, but Gooty and I were already safely outside. Ha ha, sucker.

It snowed over three inches the night before Mother’s Day. May 10. How dumb is that?

AND THEN

This weekend, Tuna and I are going back to Duluth. I’m going to try not to waste half my weekend over a toilet (which only means getting drunk from one type of alcohol rather than for) and I anticipate a rip-roarin’ good time. It’s a San Fran pre-party.

AND THEN

One month and eleven days until Neejer, Xtina, the Tunester and I leave on a jet plane on that fabulous trip. Hooyah! We’re leaving home!

I accepted the damn position. My new title? Executive Sales and Catering Office Support Manager. You would be absolutely correct in calling that title awfully excessive. Basically, I have been demoted back to my old position, but I get to still be a manager, I will manage the catering coordinator, and I get to keep my office. Oh, and the pay is better than it was when I was sales coordinator. The pay is not better than it was when I was CMD. Fortunately, I was able to get back some of the $7k they tried to rob me of.

Whatever. I still can’t get over them firing an admin during admin week. Who does that?

I forgot how busy I am in this position. These people are so NEEDY. The funniest part is, the two most likely neediest people – the GM and DOS – aren’t even here. The new GM starts today and please God don’t let her fuck us as badly as the last one did. We haven’t hired a new DOS yet. Also, business is in the shitter. Is it any wonder we drink?

This weekend, Angie’s full-time boyfriend (and my part-time boyfriend) plays his final show, which I anticipate being super sexy. It seems every time I take the Greyhound to Duluth, I swear it off for life, then I forget about swearing it off and do it again. I imagine it’s a lot like childbirth. I bet it smells the same too, as long as I’m one of those table-shitting baby deliverers. I haven’t tried pregnancy before, but I’ll be sure to let you know when I do, blog.

Here's a picture of Taylor to make everything better. I'm glad to know I'm not the only porker in the family.