~Hey! Are you reading this in a Reader? That’s cool… don’t want the man to see you being lazy, for sure. But do me a wee favor and click here, just for a second, if you don’t mind… *vague and mysterious ftw*~

So! My (23 year old) baby sister joined the rat race a few weeks ago. Though we both built character worked through college, she was in restaurants and bank teller-ing, so she’s never had the full-fledged “Office Space” experience before.

It’s been beyond hilarious for me to witness her (via many gchat conversations) discover all the horrible things that come along with the cubicle farm environment, like crotchety old coworkers, bathroom trials and tribulations (the stand-off!!!), pretending to looking busy, avoiding getting dragged into a “lunch group,” etc. etc.

One of the biggest things we both despise about working with people-we-didn’t-choose in a professional setting is, of course, the small talk.

OH GOD, the small talk. If I could banish its existence from this world, I would. I would make everyone’s mouth disappear the moment they tried to talk about the weather, or their kid’s birthday party, or their irritable bowel syndrome.

It would be magical.

But alas, I have no unicorn to speak of, and so we must suffer through it.

Anyhoo, as she was mocking her coworkers yesterday for their endless droning on about insignificant stuff ‘n things, the following conversation ensued…

Lil Sis: seriously, they’re talking about fucking BJs right now
  like literally what things cost

me: who!

Lil Sis: work people

me: *silence*

Lil Sis: You can get 14 bars of Lever soap for like $7!

me: OH
  oh my god.

Lil Sis: RIGHT?

me: um… NOT what i thought you meant when you said BJs.

Lil Sis: ooooo hahahahaha

Apparently, I’ve been away from Massachusetts so long, I’ve forgotten that BJ’s can also mean this:

I kill myself.

Also, now I’m kind of wondering about what they cost.

And not the wholesale kind.




P.S. Thanks to DC Blogs for the shout-out to my neon orange Jersey Shore tribute/condemnation yesterday!

(I’m probably bipolar.)

Mama said share.

***Update: Doods! My site caught swine flu and was down all day yesterday. It should be up and running fine now- vaccinate your children!- but do me a solid and let me know if you notice anything wonky, mmmmmkay? Xoxo***

While watching Real World last night (the Cancun scenery serves as a constant reminder of the 10-times-more-gorgeous place I will be in two months)…

Costa Rica, you are seriously my life motto right now.

Anytwaddle, so a few of the roommates end up having a threesome in the bed next to a fourth sleeping roommate. And when she finds out the following morning, she is, as she so eloquently put it, “Totally weirded out”.

Me: Oh, that would totally freak me out too. Ick.

B: Why? It’s the same thing as if it happened in your college dorm.

Me: No no no. In college, you have rules! Socks on door knobs and such- you have to come to a prior understanding about the rules of shared-room sexin’.

B: No way. Freshman year, my roommate Dave came home with a girl. I was sitting up, wide awake, watching TV. He took one look at me and said, “Going to bed, B?” You better believe I said “Yup” and turned out the light. And then, a few minutes later, I heard her say “You’re roommate’s not asleep yet!”, so I did what any good friend would do… and began fake snoring.

Me: Well, okay. But that’s more dude code than anything else. That wouldn’t really happen with girls.

B: Why not? Girls need love too.

Me: I know, but A) we would probably have figured out some elaborate smoke signal system so we wouldn’t be in the room at the same time and B) no guy who’s about to bang would EVER care that her roommate was still awake.

B: Touché, my dear. Touché.

Thank god I’m not college anymore.

Mama said share.

So…

I love you guys. No, really. You were absolutely amazing yesterday- I can’t thank you enough for all your words and support. It felt like one Southern gramma big bear hug, and I honestly can’t find to tell you how grateful I am to have all of you, and this little world.

One comment in particular brought a little “No I am NOT crying I was just cutting onions!!!” to my eye… maybe because clairemontgomerymd is a mama, (btw- read my favorite “Mary” story of hers here, it is PRICELESS), but also because she just put this whole bloggysphere thing we have going on into words so damn perfectly. Check it out:

dear mrs. lilu,
blogging is kind of like one big never-ending cyber-slumber party. we’re all playing extreme truth or dare while we laugh and cry together but when asked what we’re doing, the answer is always ‘nothing’. eavesdrop a little, but turn away with a knowing grin that we’re all going to be alright. especially lilu. your daughter rocks. she makes a lot of people’s days much brighter. she’s genuine and brilliant. you’ve done raised her right. we love her and we love you for sharing with us your baby girl. now wipe your tears and make her buy you something pretty for being the best mom ever! seriously – take advantage of this opportunity.

See? SEE??? Isn’t your heart, like, a whole lot warmer now??

*sigh of contentment*

All right, now that that’s over, let’s get on with the gross stuff! (Sorry, mamakins)…

But it is my girl Maxie‘s Would You Rather Wednesday!

So, would you rather…

A)  Get caught masturbating by (on) your friend’s mom…

Grandma’s Boy – More amazing video clips are a click away

or…

B)  Catch one of your PARENTS masturbating? [video clip redacted for all of our sanity]

Think about that…

Hate me yet? xoxo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Housekeeping: Maxie and I have had to change the date of our wedding, due to the fact that I am an idiot and double-booked a weekend.

All my best friends are SHOCKED right now, let me tell you… this is their surprised face:

Anyhoosits, the festivities will now be on Saturday, the 17th of October, rather than the 24th. Everything else shall remain the same. Except that you have one week less to buy us shit that we will then have to incorporate into the ceremony somehow.

Just kidding.

Maybe.

Mama said share.