October 23, 2009

I’m off work (!!!) for five (!!!) days while David is in town (!!!) and I am sitting on the couch while David, J, and Amanda teach Leila how to play Sorry. I was not aware that David has a latent competitive streak which might come of growing up with two brothers, and he is matched by Amanda’s wicked, pouty, aggressive brand of “I ARE THE WINNAR,” — so naturally he is enjoying beating her ass. He also just “sorry’d” my five year old kid. I anxiously await his white-boy victory dance.

We normally spend these stay-cations running around the DC area at the frantic pace of PCP-fueled lab rats, but this time we haven’t done much of anything except for eat ourselves into oblivion. Yesterday we ate a boat of sushi and three appetizers while initiating my coworker Ashley–it was her very first time eating any sushi besides California Rolls. (Which I HATE.) She discovered that she does not like tuna, though she ate an admirable amount of everything else. Tonight we gorged on Mexican, and this morning we tried donuts at The Fractured Prune. (I had a rolo donut. It was food-gasmic.) We also shopped yesterday, buying epic amounts of candy at Marshalls. (Protip: Don’t buy things that contain nuts at discount emporiums like Marshalls. The nuts in everything I bought are ever so slightly off.) (But I got the biggest Toblerone I have ever seen.)

This is probably my last vacation for a bit as Holiday is approaching quickly–it’s pretty much all downhill after October begins–and since I work in retail I will be busy dealing with crazed customers and stressed associates. One last hurrah and I won’t see David until after Christmas. Sometimes during Holiday Amanda and I don’t see each other for weeks with our weird hours. (And yes, by the way, if you worked in retail it would be Holiday with an upper-case H, too.)

Leila just won! I won last night. Obviously it’s in the genes.


Our short break is over, and…(Okay. It wasn’t that short. I’m sorry.)

(Why does Rachel Zoe say “lit-rally” every five seconds? Is she unfamiliar with the actual definition/pronunciation?)

Yesterday I dorked out. Now, I say this as if it is something that doesn’t happen very often, but actually I am a huge nerd. I mock David and his WoW-playing but then I sit online all day and read blogs and belong to a message board — the very one where I met David — and I read Laurell K. Hamilton books (everyone at work makes fun of me. Not for the books themselves, but for the reading.) and various other nerdy things.

But! Yesterday was absolutely the dorkiest I’ve ever been. And this is coming from the girl who met not one but TWO significant others online. What happened to bring out my most socially awkward, nerdtastic self? Y’all. I met Amalah. I’ve been reading her blog since…2005? Maybe before? And due to the intimate (somewhat falsely intimate, but still intimate) nature of blogging, I feel like I know a lot about her. So of course I went awkward and stalker-y instead of “I’m such a fan!” which is what I should have said. But of course, what is life without a shit-ton of “shouldas” — you know? But she was COMPLETELY sweet and cute, and her husband? Super adorable. And also tall.

When I was done blushing (my face was BRIGHT red. My associates were like, “Um, Jackie? Are you okay? You look like you’re going to pass out.” See? Dorky?) I immediately twittered. Because I needed to complete the dorky trifecta–a) meeting blogger and acting like she’s the president b)calling my boyfriend and squeeing–loudly–over said meeting and c)twittering incoherently about it.

Amy? I’m sorry I acted like a stalker. I swear I’m not going to hunt you down in the middle of the night. I was just really, really excited, and what I meant to say was: Thanks for sharing your life with us. And you looked WAY too cute for someone with two kids. Jeez. How do you get ready with them clinging to your legs? I can barely do it, and I only have one.