Happy Valentine’s Day! *barf*
Just kidding. It’s been a pretty good weekend. I spent it at my beau’s but he’s had a man-cold the last few days and woke up today feeling like a bus ran over him….twice. Poor guy. So, we’re postponing V-day dinner and instead, I hit the gym to run a few miles. Lord knows I don’t need to get sick.
But in the spirit of Valentine’s Day and it being completely overrated and lame I’ve decided to be super awesome and re-post my CRAPPY VALENTINE’S from a few years ago. (And once again WordPress has changed the format of the site and I’m trying to figure out how to add the link.)
Now that I’m home I’m going to sit back and binge watch Law & Order: SVU merely to catch up with Anic/StunBunny so that we can bond over our mutual love Peter Scanavino (aka Carisi):
and hope that this damn cold weather goes away soon – after all – that damn hedgehog DID NOT SEE its shadow two weeks ago and *this girl* is looking forward to less laying and way less road salt!
Happy Super Bowl, everyone!
As the weekend approached I remembered this silly little story from back in the day and figured, meh, why the heck shouldn’t I share my sadness and stupidity with you?
When I was 15, a few days before the Super Bowl I received in the mail a letter from Publisher’s Clearing House stating that “I could already be a winner” of something like $15 million bucks!! I was young, naive, and ecstatic. The winner was going to be provided with the cheque on Super Bowl Sunday.
I thoroughly believed that I was going to win 15 million dollars. *le sigh*
So, Sunday approached and, while everyone was making plans and doing their thing, I made my best friend come hang out with me allllll day so that she could be there when my winnings arrived.
Every damn time the phone rang I thought it was Ed McMahon calling for directions. And every single time I heard a car coming down the street my heart jumped into my throat and I held my breath. And every time the car kept driving past my house I felt a little more devastation enter my heart.
This idiocy went on for hours. Eventually Kim had to go home, and sometime around midnight I figured it was time to let go of the dream.
Damn you, Ed McMahon!
Go ahead. Laugh at a girl who’s down and out $15 million dollars. Kick me too while you’re at it.