Wednesday, May 20, 2009
I could use a good groping...
So I just saw the most hilarious headline ever..."Woman Says 'Chuck E Cheese' Groped Her". I mean, who files a complaint when they get groped by Chuck? Wouldn't you just laugh? Sure, maybe we should worry that a grown-up in a mouse suit is groping women in an establishment for kids, but still...being fondled by Chuck E Cheese...hilarious...
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
I'm not KIDding...
Not to sound cold, but I don't think I'm going to have children. Not that I don't like children, I actually really do...in fact, it wouldn't be wrong to say that I borderline love them. They can be cute, and funny, and just melt your heart with their inability to pronounce the letter "r". But bottom line is...they're children. They cry, they whine, they scream, they tantrum, they can't wipe themselves until they are like, 5, and they're yours...forever.
Where is all this coming from? Well, while walking to my car after work today, I passed a woman walking with 2 kids holding on to each hand. The boy was holding her left hand and he was pitching an absolute fit. He was maybe too old to be carrying on the way he was, but I can never gauge how old kids are, he just seemed to be awfully tall to be going bonzai like that. The girl was holding onto the woman's right hand, and she was just smiling at everyone she passed, seemingly oblivious to the shenanigans happening just on the other side of her. I passed this trio at virtually the same time as Jose, from the bank. When we were far enough away from them, he looked at me and said "THAT is why I'm not going to have any." I responded with "You ain't lyin!". We probably would have high-fived had we been standing closer together...or knew each other better. Anydiaper, then Jose said that maybe he would adopt a 17 or 18 year old, one that was already grown. I agreed, we shared a smirk at the expense of the screaming banshee wearing kids clothes, and went our separate ways.
As I walked the rest of the way to my car, I started thinking about what Jose said...but I thought, if you're going to adopt an adult-sized someone, why not adopt an actual adult? Why can't we adopt adults? Who cares if they're...well, adults, I think I should be able to adopt an adult if I want to. And not to get all picky about the age of my adult-child, but I think I'd prefer a 22 year old. So many benefits to adopting someone this age. Don't get me wrong, I'd take any adult between 21 and 35, but 22 is my preference...cmon 22! Anyagist, think about it...if they were a turdburger of a 22 year old, it wouldn't really be your fault, would it? And they'd already be out of college, so you wouldn't have to pay for it, would you? Of course, you'd have to pay if they were all ambitious n' shit and were heading to law school or...doctor school...but so long as you picked a hard working school slacker, like myself, you'd be in the clear as far as paying for stuff goes(Author's Note: I don't want to hear any wisecracks from my mother, father or sister. I realize that my car insurance isn't exactly being paid by me and that my health insurance is only being paid because of The Joyous One's company, and that until very recently my car wasn't in my name, but that doesn't give you the right to make any cracks about my assessment that you wouldn't have to pay for anything were you to adopt an adult...so shut up). And let's not forget the most important part: built-in drinking buddy. Isn't that why people have kids in the first place? I mean, besides the obvious reasons like lawn mowing, and having someone to force childhood dreams and expectations on...but right after that comes drinking buddy, right...right?
I'm sure that having kids is very fulfilling, I'm sure people get a lot more out of it than "drinking buddy" and "lawn mower". And while I just LOVE spending time with other people's kids, my favorite part about them is being able to give them back when I'm done.
Where is all this coming from? Well, while walking to my car after work today, I passed a woman walking with 2 kids holding on to each hand. The boy was holding her left hand and he was pitching an absolute fit. He was maybe too old to be carrying on the way he was, but I can never gauge how old kids are, he just seemed to be awfully tall to be going bonzai like that. The girl was holding onto the woman's right hand, and she was just smiling at everyone she passed, seemingly oblivious to the shenanigans happening just on the other side of her. I passed this trio at virtually the same time as Jose, from the bank. When we were far enough away from them, he looked at me and said "THAT is why I'm not going to have any." I responded with "You ain't lyin!". We probably would have high-fived had we been standing closer together...or knew each other better. Anydiaper, then Jose said that maybe he would adopt a 17 or 18 year old, one that was already grown. I agreed, we shared a smirk at the expense of the screaming banshee wearing kids clothes, and went our separate ways.
As I walked the rest of the way to my car, I started thinking about what Jose said...but I thought, if you're going to adopt an adult-sized someone, why not adopt an actual adult? Why can't we adopt adults? Who cares if they're...well, adults, I think I should be able to adopt an adult if I want to. And not to get all picky about the age of my adult-child, but I think I'd prefer a 22 year old. So many benefits to adopting someone this age. Don't get me wrong, I'd take any adult between 21 and 35, but 22 is my preference...cmon 22! Anyagist, think about it...if they were a turdburger of a 22 year old, it wouldn't really be your fault, would it? And they'd already be out of college, so you wouldn't have to pay for it, would you? Of course, you'd have to pay if they were all ambitious n' shit and were heading to law school or...doctor school...but so long as you picked a hard working school slacker, like myself, you'd be in the clear as far as paying for stuff goes(Author's Note: I don't want to hear any wisecracks from my mother, father or sister. I realize that my car insurance isn't exactly being paid by me and that my health insurance is only being paid because of The Joyous One's company, and that until very recently my car wasn't in my name, but that doesn't give you the right to make any cracks about my assessment that you wouldn't have to pay for anything were you to adopt an adult...so shut up). And let's not forget the most important part: built-in drinking buddy. Isn't that why people have kids in the first place? I mean, besides the obvious reasons like lawn mowing, and having someone to force childhood dreams and expectations on...but right after that comes drinking buddy, right...right?
I'm sure that having kids is very fulfilling, I'm sure people get a lot more out of it than "drinking buddy" and "lawn mower". And while I just LOVE spending time with other people's kids, my favorite part about them is being able to give them back when I'm done.
Monday, May 18, 2009
A tribute to my dogs...
This is an old boog I pulled from Myspace that I wrote right after my dogs were put to sleep in May of 2006. I didn't post it on the exact 3 year anniversary because well, that was Annie's wedding day and a day of glad, not sad. But I still think about them a lot, especially since my mom gave me and Emily a throw blanket with a (giant) picture of them on it for Christmas. So since I'm still thinking about them a lot now, I figured I should resurrect the boog I wrote about them back then.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
R.I.P Frannie and Zoey
Okay, this is not a funny blog, so if that's what you're hoping for, read the one about the drag queen....
Monday, May 15th might go down as one of the worst days I've ever had. Monday, May 15th, signaled the end of an era. Monday, May 15th the dog world lost 2 of it's most devoted, hilarious, loving, goofy, and cuddly ambassadors. Monday, May 15th I said goodbye to the 2 best dogs a girl could ever dream of. My dear, sweet puppies Frannie and Zoey went to heaven. I loved them like sisters, like litter-mates, like friends.
Zoey was the best friend I've ever had. No offense to my current friends, but she was a much better listener and her cuddling was aces! She was the princess to end all princess's, she wouldn't even go off the deck to go to the bathroom if it was raining. She'd just squat right there and delicately trot back into the house when she was finished. God forbid her precious paws got muddy or wet. Zoey chose the more leisurely path through life, just like me. She preferred laying to playing. She was the snack chip/phone/remote control transporter for my sister and I when we were too lazy to get off the couches. Just tuck the object in Zoey's collar and send her over to the opposing couch. She was there for me through all of my terrible high-school tradgedies. She knew when I was sad. She knew when I needed a kiss. She knew when I needed a hug. She knew that even if I wanted to be alone, that didn't apply to her. She knew. She was a good dog. I will miss her more than I can even say.
Frannie was the anti-Zoey. Not that she didn't love her, they were extrodinarily close. It's just that everything about Frannie was...well...frantic. Her Garbage Pail Kid name would totally have been "Frantic Frannie". Frannie provided hours of entertainment. Why, just a couple of weeks ago she put on my mom's Croc and walked around with it for a good while until she finally jarred it loose and it fell off. Her middle-of-the-night phone call to the police is a story that I'll never be able to tell with a straight face. Maybe I'll write a seperate blog about it. It's friggin hilarious. But Frannie also knew when to turn off the comedy and snuggle her head onto your lap or jump up to kiss away your tears. I'm so happy she came into my life.
More times than not, I ended up with both of them in my twin bed when it was time to go to sleep. And more times than not, I would wake up on the floor next to my twin bed in the morning while they lay comfortably stretched out on my pillow. They were true companions, to my family and to each other.
But now they are gone, and I'm terribly sad but I'm coping. I'm happy that they went together. And I'm happy that they are in heaven with their old pal Gracie, their mothers and father(yes they had the same father, totally inbred), their brothers and sisters, their new rodent friends Choco, Stormy, and Coco, their new snake pals Cleo, Adolf, Handel and Chiva, their new bird buddies Marcus and Bluey, and their new fish friends including Fernando and all the Peteys , and...um, I think that's it.
I know I'm a softie, I cried the whole time I was writing this. But those 2 dogs deserved this blog. They deserve more than this blog, but this is the best I can do since I'm not on the radio or on the televsion...yet. I wish all of you who read this could have met them and for those of you who did, you're better for it. Rest in Peace, ladies, and know that you've changed my life.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
R.I.P Frannie and Zoey
Okay, this is not a funny blog, so if that's what you're hoping for, read the one about the drag queen....
Monday, May 15th might go down as one of the worst days I've ever had. Monday, May 15th, signaled the end of an era. Monday, May 15th the dog world lost 2 of it's most devoted, hilarious, loving, goofy, and cuddly ambassadors. Monday, May 15th I said goodbye to the 2 best dogs a girl could ever dream of. My dear, sweet puppies Frannie and Zoey went to heaven. I loved them like sisters, like litter-mates, like friends.
Zoey was the best friend I've ever had. No offense to my current friends, but she was a much better listener and her cuddling was aces! She was the princess to end all princess's, she wouldn't even go off the deck to go to the bathroom if it was raining. She'd just squat right there and delicately trot back into the house when she was finished. God forbid her precious paws got muddy or wet. Zoey chose the more leisurely path through life, just like me. She preferred laying to playing. She was the snack chip/phone/remote control transporter for my sister and I when we were too lazy to get off the couches. Just tuck the object in Zoey's collar and send her over to the opposing couch. She was there for me through all of my terrible high-school tradgedies. She knew when I was sad. She knew when I needed a kiss. She knew when I needed a hug. She knew that even if I wanted to be alone, that didn't apply to her. She knew. She was a good dog. I will miss her more than I can even say.
Frannie was the anti-Zoey. Not that she didn't love her, they were extrodinarily close. It's just that everything about Frannie was...well...frantic. Her Garbage Pail Kid name would totally have been "Frantic Frannie". Frannie provided hours of entertainment. Why, just a couple of weeks ago she put on my mom's Croc and walked around with it for a good while until she finally jarred it loose and it fell off. Her middle-of-the-night phone call to the police is a story that I'll never be able to tell with a straight face. Maybe I'll write a seperate blog about it. It's friggin hilarious. But Frannie also knew when to turn off the comedy and snuggle her head onto your lap or jump up to kiss away your tears. I'm so happy she came into my life.
More times than not, I ended up with both of them in my twin bed when it was time to go to sleep. And more times than not, I would wake up on the floor next to my twin bed in the morning while they lay comfortably stretched out on my pillow. They were true companions, to my family and to each other.
But now they are gone, and I'm terribly sad but I'm coping. I'm happy that they went together. And I'm happy that they are in heaven with their old pal Gracie, their mothers and father(yes they had the same father, totally inbred), their brothers and sisters, their new rodent friends Choco, Stormy, and Coco, their new snake pals Cleo, Adolf, Handel and Chiva, their new bird buddies Marcus and Bluey, and their new fish friends including Fernando and all the Peteys , and...um, I think that's it.
I know I'm a softie, I cried the whole time I was writing this. But those 2 dogs deserved this blog. They deserve more than this blog, but this is the best I can do since I'm not on the radio or on the televsion...yet. I wish all of you who read this could have met them and for those of you who did, you're better for it. Rest in Peace, ladies, and know that you've changed my life.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Hair Raising...
It seems that every time I get my eyebrows waxed, my waxing lady(what is the proper term for "hair waxer" anyways?) seems to wax higher and higher up onto my forehead. What am I turning into, Teen Wolf? I guess technically I should ask "What am I turning into, Nearly Middle Aged Wolf?"
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Back up off my girl...
Listen, I love Britney Spears. I know that she does not sing at her concerts, but I don't care. I love her. I know that she consistently gets skewered by reviewers(heh), but I don't care. I love her. I know that her songs are cheesed-out electronically modified pop jams, but I don't care. I love her. I LOVE HER. I guess this is coming out because I got pretty defensive when I read the Sun Times review in which the reviewer totally whack-a-moled her show. I went last night, and I cannot argue with one thing he panned her for, everything he said was true...I guess I just don't care. Because I love her.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Oh no, not Dorothy Zbornak!!!!
It is with a heavy, heavy heart that I write this boog today. As many of you might already know, yesterday marked the death of Bea Arthur. Bea was one of our most beloved television actresses, entering our hearts first as Maude in "Maude" and then earning a place there forever playing the quick witted Dorothy Zbornak in "The Golden Girls". If you were to say I was obsessed with the Golden Girls, well you wouldn't be wrong. I stay up until 1am many nights during the week watching episode after episode after episode. They are half the reason I wanted to get a DVR. I credit Dorothy Zbornak and Sophia Petrillo with showing me how to smack people with a quick comeback. Mind you, my comebacks are a little less TV friendly, riddled with swears and all, but still, Dorothy and Sophia helped mold me into the sarcastic ass that I am today.
Where were you when you heard about Bea Arthur? Well, I was at the Big City Tap with The Joyous One watching the depressing mess that was the Cubs game when my phone buzzed. I picked up my phone, it was a text from my sister Emily. I opened the text and gasped louder than I've ever gasped before. I may have actually said the word "GASP". The Joyous One immediately knew something was wrong and when I showed her the text, she put her arm around me and said "Oh no babe!". I put my head down, looked at the text again, and started crying. Through my tears I was able to respond to my sister with a "You're lying..." text, to which she responded that no, she was not lying and that she tried to call to tell me in person. I was startled by my reaction to hearing that Bea Arthur was dead, although my being startled shouldn't be that startling because I startle easily, as some of you know. If you didn't know that, well now you know that I'm an easy startler. I startled myself just the other day at Whole Foods, and I startle myself every time I open my garbage can at home. Startlability...it's a gift. Anyjumpy, back to Bea...the news of her passing invaded the rest of my evening. We were at an enGAYgement party and it was all I could talk about. When my friend Bundy got there, she said "Hi Merta" and I responded, not with a hello, but with "BEA ARTHUR DIED!!!!"...like, way to kill the celebratory mood, Merta. And instead of toasting the happy couple, I continually toasted to Bea Arthur. Even when we did a big "To Jason and Ryan" toast, I was in my head going "And to Bea Arthur"...don't tell Jason and Ryan though. Boy, I sure hope they don't read this, I really want to be invited to that wedding! Anygaywedding, my heart is truly saddened by the death of Bea Arthur, and to celebrate my sarcasm mentor, I've included some of my favorite Dorothy Zbornak quotes. Man, I don't even want to think about what I'm going to do when Betty White dies...
"Rose: I had the strangest dream last night. I was at a baseball game. Charlie Brown was pitching, Shroeder was behind the plate, Lucy and Snoopy were in center field, and they wouldn't let me play. When I woke up, I was crying. What do you think it is?
Dorothy: Peanuts envy?"
"Dorothy: So you're five years older. So am I, so is Blanche. All right, so you have a few more wrinkles. So do I, so does Blanche. OK, so you're a little thicker around the middle. So is Blanche."
"Dorothy: [to Sophia] You're a furry little gnome and we feed you too much. "
"Rose: Can I ask a dumb question?
Dorothy: Better than anyone I know..."
"Blanche: Rose! You were in a love triangle and never told me!
Rose: I never thought you'd be interested!
Dorothy: Oh really? But you thought we WOULD be interested in the story about little Yiminee, the boy who was raised by a wild moose?"
"Sophia: Was that a plumber?
Dorothy: No, that was a girl scout, selling girl scout toilets."
"Rose: Why are you both wearing black? Did you just get back from a funeral?
Dorothy: No Rose, we were singing back-up for Johnny Cash."
"Dorothy: Oh come on, Ma, that's superstitious nonsense. You know, step on a crack, break your mother's back, it doesn't work. — I know."
"Dorothy: Rose, I hope you don't mind, but I'm borrowing your golf gloves.
Rose: Oh, you have a date?
Dorothy: Yes.
Blanche: With a man?
Dorothy: No, Blanche! With a Venus Flytrap!!!! Of course with a man!"
"Dorothy: You'll have to excuse my mother; she suffered a slight stroke a few years ago, which rendered her totally annoying."
And to cap it off, here is my all-time favorite Golden Girls exchange...
"Rose: This is exactly what happened during the Great Herring War.
Blanche: The Great Herring War?
Rose: Yes, between the Lindstroms and the Johanssons.
Dorothy: Oh, THAT Great Herring War.
Rose: The two families controlled the most fertile herring waters off the coast of Norway, so naturally, it seemed like it would be in their best interest to band together. Oh, boy, was that a mistake. You see, they couldn't agree on what to do with the herring
Dorothy: Oh, well that's understandable. I mean, the possibilities are overwhelming.
Rose: Exactly. The Johanssons wanted to pickle the herring, and the Lindstroms wanted to train them for the circus.
Blanche: Weren't they kind of hard to see riding on the elephants?
Rose: Oh, not that kind of circus. A herring circus. Sort of like Sea World, only smaller. Much, much smaller. But bigger than a flea circus.
Dorothy: Uh, tell me, Rose, um... Ah-ha ha ha!... Did they ever shoot a herring out of a cannon? Rose: Only once. But they shot him into a tree. After that no other herring would do it."
Rest in peace, Bea Arthur, and thanks for the laughs!
Where were you when you heard about Bea Arthur? Well, I was at the Big City Tap with The Joyous One watching the depressing mess that was the Cubs game when my phone buzzed. I picked up my phone, it was a text from my sister Emily. I opened the text and gasped louder than I've ever gasped before. I may have actually said the word "GASP". The Joyous One immediately knew something was wrong and when I showed her the text, she put her arm around me and said "Oh no babe!". I put my head down, looked at the text again, and started crying. Through my tears I was able to respond to my sister with a "You're lying..." text, to which she responded that no, she was not lying and that she tried to call to tell me in person. I was startled by my reaction to hearing that Bea Arthur was dead, although my being startled shouldn't be that startling because I startle easily, as some of you know. If you didn't know that, well now you know that I'm an easy startler. I startled myself just the other day at Whole Foods, and I startle myself every time I open my garbage can at home. Startlability...it's a gift. Anyjumpy, back to Bea...the news of her passing invaded the rest of my evening. We were at an enGAYgement party and it was all I could talk about. When my friend Bundy got there, she said "Hi Merta" and I responded, not with a hello, but with "BEA ARTHUR DIED!!!!"...like, way to kill the celebratory mood, Merta. And instead of toasting the happy couple, I continually toasted to Bea Arthur. Even when we did a big "To Jason and Ryan" toast, I was in my head going "And to Bea Arthur"...don't tell Jason and Ryan though. Boy, I sure hope they don't read this, I really want to be invited to that wedding! Anygaywedding, my heart is truly saddened by the death of Bea Arthur, and to celebrate my sarcasm mentor, I've included some of my favorite Dorothy Zbornak quotes. Man, I don't even want to think about what I'm going to do when Betty White dies...
"Rose: I had the strangest dream last night. I was at a baseball game. Charlie Brown was pitching, Shroeder was behind the plate, Lucy and Snoopy were in center field, and they wouldn't let me play. When I woke up, I was crying. What do you think it is?
Dorothy: Peanuts envy?"
"Dorothy: So you're five years older. So am I, so is Blanche. All right, so you have a few more wrinkles. So do I, so does Blanche. OK, so you're a little thicker around the middle. So is Blanche."
"Dorothy: [to Sophia] You're a furry little gnome and we feed you too much. "
"Rose: Can I ask a dumb question?
Dorothy: Better than anyone I know..."
"Blanche: Rose! You were in a love triangle and never told me!
Rose: I never thought you'd be interested!
Dorothy: Oh really? But you thought we WOULD be interested in the story about little Yiminee, the boy who was raised by a wild moose?"
"Sophia: Was that a plumber?
Dorothy: No, that was a girl scout, selling girl scout toilets."
"Rose: Why are you both wearing black? Did you just get back from a funeral?
Dorothy: No Rose, we were singing back-up for Johnny Cash."
"Dorothy: Oh come on, Ma, that's superstitious nonsense. You know, step on a crack, break your mother's back, it doesn't work. — I know."
"Dorothy: Rose, I hope you don't mind, but I'm borrowing your golf gloves.
Rose: Oh, you have a date?
Dorothy: Yes.
Blanche: With a man?
Dorothy: No, Blanche! With a Venus Flytrap!!!! Of course with a man!"
"Dorothy: You'll have to excuse my mother; she suffered a slight stroke a few years ago, which rendered her totally annoying."
And to cap it off, here is my all-time favorite Golden Girls exchange...
"Rose: This is exactly what happened during the Great Herring War.
Blanche: The Great Herring War?
Rose: Yes, between the Lindstroms and the Johanssons.
Dorothy: Oh, THAT Great Herring War.
Rose: The two families controlled the most fertile herring waters off the coast of Norway, so naturally, it seemed like it would be in their best interest to band together. Oh, boy, was that a mistake. You see, they couldn't agree on what to do with the herring
Dorothy: Oh, well that's understandable. I mean, the possibilities are overwhelming.
Rose: Exactly. The Johanssons wanted to pickle the herring, and the Lindstroms wanted to train them for the circus.
Blanche: Weren't they kind of hard to see riding on the elephants?
Rose: Oh, not that kind of circus. A herring circus. Sort of like Sea World, only smaller. Much, much smaller. But bigger than a flea circus.
Dorothy: Uh, tell me, Rose, um... Ah-ha ha ha!... Did they ever shoot a herring out of a cannon? Rose: Only once. But they shot him into a tree. After that no other herring would do it."
Rest in peace, Bea Arthur, and thanks for the laughs!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Take my kid to work? I don't even want to go myself...
In my 32 years on this planet, I have never participated in "Take Your Child To Work Day". I always wanted to, well, mostly I always wanted to go with my mom to work, since when I was a kid she was a stay at home mom. Shockingly, that didn't fly. But even after she went back to work she never took me, so neither parent ever offered to take me to their job on "Take Your Child To Work Day". Not that I can talk, I've never offered to take my children to work, and I don't think I will this year either...probably because I don't have children...or a puppy...or a hamster even...I have no kin. Anylonely, since I've never participated in "Take Your Child To Work Day"(because I've NEVER BEEN ASKED TO), I spent several years pushing away the hurt and the painful reminders of this day in which children are taken to work by their loving parents. At 32 years old, I thought I was over it. I pretty much thought I'd forgotten all about it...until today when I received this from my mother:
Dear Children,
As you know, or don't know, tomorrow is "Take Your Child to Work Day' and there is nothing I would rather do except not go to work and that is exactly what I am going to do, so either go to your own job or talk your Father into taking you to his.
Love,
Mom
So that got me thinking that there should be a new day called "Take Your Grown-Up-Children-With-Their-Own-Jobs To Work Day". This would be a way for those of us who were deprived of this privilege to finally see "where daddy hangs his coat" or "where mommy eats her lunch", or "where daddy reads the paper", or "where mommy plays solitaire", or "where daddy keeps his flask" or "mommy fired Johnson for being a dbag" or "where daddy got written up for sending an email that was deemed 'inappropriate for work' regarding a bull who has his way with a cow whose head is stuck between fence posts"...sorry...I got lost there for a bit. Anybovine, I guess I missed being taken to work more than I knew. And I think it would be hilarious, at 32, to have my lifelong dream finally come true...participating in "Take Your Child To Work Day". Maybe next year...
Dear Children,
As you know, or don't know, tomorrow is "Take Your Child to Work Day' and there is nothing I would rather do except not go to work and that is exactly what I am going to do, so either go to your own job or talk your Father into taking you to his.
Love,
Mom
So that got me thinking that there should be a new day called "Take Your Grown-Up-Children-With-Their-Own-Jobs To Work Day". This would be a way for those of us who were deprived of this privilege to finally see "where daddy hangs his coat" or "where mommy eats her lunch", or "where daddy reads the paper", or "where mommy plays solitaire", or "where daddy keeps his flask" or "mommy fired Johnson for being a dbag" or "where daddy got written up for sending an email that was deemed 'inappropriate for work' regarding a bull who has his way with a cow whose head is stuck between fence posts"...sorry...I got lost there for a bit. Anybovine, I guess I missed being taken to work more than I knew. And I think it would be hilarious, at 32, to have my lifelong dream finally come true...participating in "Take Your Child To Work Day". Maybe next year...
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