Email Forwards.

I got this e-mail forward at work once. I really hate that sort of a thing...at my last just people in the office who I never even talked to would send me them. The ones that irked me where the scary ones like "little girl is dying, then God sent an Angel and she lived. Message: be an angel. Now send this to 10 of your friends." The fuck outta here. That shit is terrifying to me on some end-of-days, 2012 level of fear.
Anyways, at my current office there is a staff size of 13. 5 are women. I have next to nothing in common with these girls, but I always try...! So I get a forward from the admin. Assistant girl about how being a woman in the bathroom sucks. Because I don't have any other real way to engage with these girls. The least I can do is read an reply with the standard " LMAO. OMG, girl! All of that was SO true! :-)" so, I read the forward. It goes through this long (and decidedly not funny,) series of unfortunate events like the ever-so-scary; "there's not toilet paper in here" but the smart and savvy woman in the email had a "crumpled Kleenex" in her purse-- treat! Or how "squatting over the urine covered toilet is the only for of exercise of the day". There was a part in the email where the lady sees that the stall has no hook for her purse and so she is left with no choice. She puts the purse around her neck. I distinctly remember rolling my eyes about that. I mean.... It's just kind of really stupid....err.... And practical.
After seeing SATC2 with SM & Jcam in Durham, we went to the bathroom before we left. I check every stall and each of them looks like a Port-o-potty, which is alarming because last time I checked, the movie theater was an indoor facility. I thought I'd wandered into a music festival...or a construction site. Anyways, I find the most clean stall and you know proceed to go in. I notice there is no hook and I had the A-HA moment where I remembered the e-mail chain at work. So my genius ass puts the bag around my neck. Well. The momentum of the swinging bag (that, and me trying to take a picture of my bathroom antics) caused me to lose balance, pissing all over everything but the actual water in the toilet. Shamed to death, basically. Luckily there was enough toilet paper from every other trashy bitch who some how missed the bowl and threw theirs on the floor, that I felt no real guilt about the pee incident. (PS: no pee got on me). I guess those work forwards do have some merit after all....

Holiday Party...

Oh hey y'all. I just finished finals! I'm like, real happy. My family just got to town, got new clients at my internship....so things are exciting and busy.

On Wednesday night my agency had their office holiday potluck for all the case workers. Fun right? Well, my supervisor insisted on me bringing my parents. Here I am, that freakin intern with her parents at the office party.

Well it went real well! Haha my parents took the train to the bronx with me, and met everyone. They absolutely loved Doug and I mean, duh...I love doug so it worked out perfectly haha.

My family is still up here, and my bro is staying w/ me and E. Tonight I plan to get him into some real crazy shit with his buddy patrick. Hopin to get blacked out like a freshman... Its winter break, dammit!!

Oh, and that's what I wore to the x-mas dinner. It was sort of a big deal because usually I wear like, baggy-ish jeans, my nike air max sneakers or clarks, and a tee-shirt +zip or cardigan. Nothing cute but like, I work in a boys club with homeless people so cute stuff is like, really not appropriate.

Needless to say I was excited to get a lil dressed up.

Ok. I'm rambling to avoid the real story. So I'm at a potluck dinner and its like, the food? Its bangin. I hadn't had a legit meal in like 4 days because of finals and all the mess with the banker. I'm like, "Self, you know how sensitive you are to everything. Don't spaz in here, eating whatever the fuck you wanna"

Obviously I didn't follow my own advice. The downfall was this lasagna that my co-worker brought. It was just TOO much flavor. With each bite my stomach was screaming back "please. No more" but some how I decided to ignore it's pleas.

Then here comes Doug: "I signed up for dessert because I wanted to bring everyone my favorite cheesecake in the world from this spot over by where I stay."

Well. Hell. Someone brings me an inappropriately large slice. 3 bites in and it was a wrap.

Y'all, I don't even really eat dairy like that. Why would I eat this hunk of cheesecake concentrate?

To make matters more awkward/uncomfortable, during the "I appreciate my staff" speak Doug gave.... I escape. Where I proceed to die a low death in the bathroom. I know, huge TMI, but whatever, it's my blog and I mean--- I'm going there.

So the more I panic about how er--shitty the situation is, the more um...shitty the situation becomes.

Moral of the story: some times you gotta man up, suck it up, and rejoin the party. And friends, that's what I did. But that's my last pot luck. They will get you killed.

Outfit:
Jeans---Joe's
Cardigan-- H&M
Tee-- American Apparel
Boots-- Michael Kors