18 June 2013

Sunday Confessional (That's Never Posted on Sunday, Apparently)

This post was originally crafted on Father's Day, such a good time to do a 'Sunday Confessional'. Confession: I got my taste for excellent scotch from my Dad. He knows the good stuff. Though Johnnie Walker Blue is not quite my first choice all the time...I'm more of a Woodford Reserve kinda girl. Bourbon over scotch...sometimes. And Jameson whiskey is always a standby for any night, any occasion.

You'd think I'm 50 instead of 28.

Now to my Sunday Confessions (which are more like Tuesday Confessions, but that just sounds silly. And I'll post these things whenever I damn well get around to it. Sunday I was busy watching Man of Steel and helping my Dad eat lots of delicious food. Good times):

1. I have already had a few conversations with my sister last week about "do I have this book in real format? should I buy it on kindle or buy the book itself? I'm not sure if I actually own it already." The problem with be an obsessive book buying addict. I really don't know all the books I have. Someday, I'll compile a list. Maybe someday soon.

My pretty sister and me. I appreciate this photo most of all because  for once, my head is not looking 3x the size of hers...which is actually is. I wear men's x-large caps, FYI.

2. Got a cavity filled on Thursday morning, the day after I had returned from five days in London. They had found the cavity, just a small surface one, the day before I went to London. By the time I got it filled, despite always brushing, flossing and using mouthwash daily, because of my trip to London and my insatiable sweet tooth when there, it had increased considerably. I've also gained five pounds. I can only tell that because....

3. within five days of being in London, I've gone up in cup size. No lie. Me + visiting London = weight gain every time. I think I'll be better when I live there....swear.

4. While going through customs in Toronto airport on Wednesday, looking all greasy, grumpy, frumpy, agitated by Canada's completely ridiculous customs format (3 step process: step 1-scan your ticket, do you have a bag? yes, go to step 2. Step 2-sit down and wait an exorbitant amount of time waiting for your name to appear on a screen, name on screen? yes? go to step 3. Step 3-Wait in line at the usual customs check point...totally lame), I managed to get hit on by the customs officer. He barely asked me the necessary things needed to be asked when going through customs. When we hit on the topic of my being involved in theatre he kept insisting that I should take him to a show in Toronto since Rochester, where I live, is not far. He even wrote down his number for me...which I promptly lost when going through security scan. Ummm, fairly certain that him and my Dad could have bonded over college memories together cause he was definitely his age.

5. Friday. My sister and I got some ice cream after lunch before heading back to work. I always ask for a "kiddie" or "baby" size because I want SMALL. Instead they look at me, take my adult size into consideration, and hand me an ice cream usually the size of my head. But seriously, ice cream makers, I want a cone the size of what is appropriate for a 3 year old. WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME? And by that I mean, I did indeed eat most of my extra large ice cream and the proceeded to act high the rest of the afternoon. Me and Lauren had a serious case of the giggles and barely got our work done. At one point we were dancing through the warehouse (my Dad owns the company where we work) and my sister sang out "I want to do an interpretive dance of all the things in the warehouse!" Now I suppose that's a confession for my sister, but I was really egging her on the whole time. We spend a lot of time together, considering we both live at home and work in a very tiny office together. Often my "date nights" are out with my sister to get sushi or see a movie. And she even has a boyfriend. IT'S BECAUSE I'M AWESOME. Cute, single, Henry Cavill-lookalikes take note.

CLEARLY sugar addicts. Consuming the goods from Alice's Tea Cup in Central Park, NYC.

6. My sister insisted I add my triumphant success with Champagne bottles this weekend. BTW, as part of my job at Folger theatre, I had to open Champagne bottles frequently. I was a PRO. Seriously. I could uncork around 30 bottles in under 5 minutes. When it's free champagne night at Consort, you better well have those bottles ready! Well I brought Champagne to my brothers house for Father's Day brunch on Sunday and while I was preparing our mimosas, I took the cage part off of the bottle and then went to prepare the orange juice. Not sure why I didn't just fully open the bottle, but did you know? When you take the cage off the top of a Champagne bottle, the pressure on the cork is left to build under the cork and within 30 seconds...POP...off it went. For half a second I seriously considered doing my "DC tuck and fall to the the ground because some body's got a gun" move. After getting lectures from every...single....member...of my family I won't be making that mistake again.

Had to include a truly respectable fam photo. My brothers know how to rock it. Obviously, I am the one with the impressive strength in the family.

7. Another one for Friday. The ice cream high day. Lauren was complaining about invoices getting moved around her desk and I was commiserating as well due to my pens and post-its being stolen from my desk. We decided the best way to deal with this situation, working for a company that is made of mostly men besides us two, that the only way for the men to keep their hands off our stuff is to cover everything in tampons. We'll use them as paper weights and mix them in with our pens in the cup holder. GENIUS. And obviously, after that gem of an idea introduced, we are no longer allowed to consumer sugar.

I'm not sure why anyone wouldn't take us seriously. For realz yo.

That's it for this week's Sunday Confessional...maybe next week I'll post it on Sunday. GENIUS.


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