I made a new friend the other night. Her name is Carrie, and her boyfriend the Sprint Salesman (ha ha...I'll tell that story one day) is a drinking buddy of the Fiance's. I'm gonna pick her up this morning, then pick up Becks, then finally Dee. I volunteered to be the driver today because we plan on going to a Corgi rescue place in the city across the river, and while in the area I plan on making a stop somewhere to surprise a certain lady who is going through a rough time.
First things first, though...breakfast at IHOP to celebrate Dee's new job!! It's a lot of money, a lot of travel, and we're all stoked for her. I like to think I had a hand in talking her into it, ha ha. After breakfast is when we'll head across the great river to see some Corgis and surprise some peoples. Then we'll head back this way so I can get my hair did (red streaks, red streaks, red streaks...) and hopefully get my awful-looking nails done.
So the east coast is being slammed with snow right now, which I'm only aware of way out here in the midwest because I have too many east coast "pals" on the Facebook and it's all they're talking about in their status updates. This morning I woke up to see about two dinky inches of snow, but that wind is not playing around. It whistled alllllll niiiiiiight and is now whistling allllll moooooorning, and it's making me want to punch a baby.
Please stop fucking whistling right the fuck now before I go on a baby-punching rampage. kthxbi
Dread Pirate Davi
Fun fact about the Dread Pirate Davi: Her hangovers do not consist of headaches, nausea, and a burning desire for death. They instead consist of a very intense thirst and a very, very, very intense hunger. On Thursday, I ate mozzarella sticks and curly fries from Arby's before cleaning off a plate at Houlihan's consisting of an 8 oz filet mignon, asparagus, and mashed taters. And I was still somewhat hungry after. Moral of the story: Hangovers are bad for my waistline and my bladder.