I can only describe our plans to surprise Ben's as "thwarted". That little brat decided that he had too much to do and couldn't come to the Happy Hour that Robyn and I were having. We finally had to force him out of the house, which is when he became terribly suspicious (as if beer pong on a Wednesday wasn't suspicious enough) and accused me of "setting up a ping pong table in his garage." He was very happy when we got back to his house and all the guys were there with the new table, but surprised is not a word I would use to describe him.
My beer pong playing was assessed in several ways last night, none of which ever get old.
Are you just going to stand there while the ball whizzes by your head?Use the paddle, not your face.Doesn't it look like she is trying to catch invisible butterflies?Clearly the last one is the best, and I had to agree, it really did look like I was swatting at bugs or something.
I woke up on the right side of the bed this morning, and have been doing so for the past couple days. I was in such a good mood and XM was playing such great music this morning. I rocked out (if you can use that term) to N'Sync's
I want you back. I don't know if I am comfortable admitting my love for N'Sync in this forum, but let's just say that several years ago both Marc and I (yes Marc, I'm throwing you under the bus on this one since you got me started on this 13-year old girl music) had tickets to the N'Sync concert in Charlotte, North Carolina, when we lived in INDIANA! Lucky for us, the show was cancelled (damned Ticketmaster doesn't refund the surcharge. 12.50 * whatever % interest for 6 years = I'm still pissed about a piddly amount of money) so we didn't have to find travel to Charlotte. I had also rallied for an N'Sync song as our wedding song, but surprisingly that was vetoed by the teenybopper himself. Turning his back on N'Sync like that. He's such a Justin Timberlake.
Today is our office Christmas party. Let me explain that a Gov't Christmas party isn't even 1/4 as fun as a civilian Christmas party. First of all, its a Holiday party, second its cash bar (drinks are like a million dollars apiece), third its in the Firehouse, fourth its full of a bunch of men in uniforms, which may excite some of you but realize that they are middle aged men in uniforms and mostly Navy, which means they aren't nearly as taut as the Marines. Don't refute it, the Navy is a lot "softer in the belly" than some of the other services! Not the point. Let me share some of my favorite things about last year's Holiday party.
1. The electric slide was played 7 times. I'm not kidding. I'm really not. And these two stupid women kept going out and dancing to it...incorrectly. I have never done this dance, but I'll tell you this much - I could have
Pants Off/Dance Off'd the hell out of that song by the time the party was over.
2. The bugged-eyed lady (who I later had a class with and I've determined is certifably INSANE) who danced in her short, tight blue dress with her fish net stockings to the song "White Wedding" with the hot guy that sits a couple seats over from me. She grabbed his crotch near the end (he is married and yes, his wife was there) and hollered something along the lines of "I guess what they say is true" which caused my friend Colin to say "well, she did just go through a pretty nasty divorce", as though that somehow explained her behavior.
3. This behavior also prompted someone at an adjacent table to say "Looks like she managed to pick up Jungle Fever in the divorce", which explains to my readers why I didn't spell out that the guy was probably "endowed".
4. The same two idiots that were "dancing" the electric slide all day started drawing the names for the door prizes. This was great since they were totally blitzed and apparently illiterate. They'd say things into the microphone like "We don't even know who this person is" and throw away the slip. (Somehow I feel that person was me, especially when they called the winner for the wine sampler basket I'd been coveting and threw the name on the ground when they didn't recognize it.) It was also about this time when I realized that the one woman only had one finger on her right hand...and that's right ladies and gentlemen-it was her middle finger. I'm not even going to "go there" but you can fill in your own jokes (and pity)
Ok, so this blog post has gone on long enough, but hopefully it will help Patty get over her boredom and maybe put some other people in that less-than-bored state.