10:14 a.m. - 2006-07-27
and I'm at work.
Today is a good day to be laying on the the couch (or is it lieing? I always get those confused) covered in a chenille blanket, with a good book and a glass of vodka to knock off any residual chill.
Unfortunately that's not going to happen.
Tomorrow is supposed to be our annual day at the lake. Once a year, the boss closes the office, stockpiles booze and food, and we head out to his lake house and play on the boat all day. Everyone gets stupidly drunk and bonds. It's good for morale. Besides, how many people can honestly say they've seen their co-workers topless?
There's a 70% chance of rain tomorrow, so I'm wondering if there will be much boating involved. If not, I promised to teach all my office peeps how to play Circle of Death. (the before mentioned drinking game you play with a deck of cards) This is a hardcore game that if you play with more than 5 people, you really should invest in a keg of beer. That's how much you will consume. --see I'm already practicing saying 'consume', rather than drink, drank, or drunk. One of the cards you draw allows the drawee to make a rule, and that's usually the first one out there.
Well, I'm still somewhat eagerly anticipating the carnage. I'll take my camera and let you know how that goes...
I'm still on Book Fest 2006 at the house. Night before last I devoured an entire book, then I honestly did the same thing last night. Bill was teasing me for reading 2 complete books in 2 nights. I'm so geek like 'dat. In my defense (or to further illustrate the geekiness, you decide) the books I read were light little vampire novels by Sherilyn Kenyon. They are entertaining, and the sex is hot, so it's just what the doctor ordered.
Check them out if you need a couple of hours to rest your weary brain. Kick back and embrace the fluff.
Always works me for me.
I believe I've mentioned before that I'm not a snobby reader. I don't line my bookshelves with pretentious titles in hopes that someone will believe I'm a smart girl. I don't have to advertise my angst by reading some obscure book on poetry that proses on and on about life being a parallel to a bird in flight. Said bird being of course a raven or a crow. (because black birdy poetry just SCREAMS I'm disturbed and you should take me seriously) I do however, feel the need to show everyone what a closet freak I am, by buying up all the cheap porn and erotica I can find. And geek? Well, let's just say the spouse has TONS of books that cover the sci-fi genre. Those are pretty good as well.
I believe I've allowed this entry to ramble on enough.