cowabunga, and so forth.

Holy moly, where have I been?  Lost in my own head somewhere.  But I’m popping out of my narcissistic stupor for a moment to say, “Hello, Internets!”  And because I know you missed me, it’s time for another edition of…

What is Caro thinking right now?

  • I found the perfect underwear.  They’re simple, they’re comfortable, and they’re the granny-panties of my dreams.  Every time I put them on, I feel like my butt is getting a big, soft, warm hug.  I mean, wouldn’t you hug your butt if it was physically possible?  Sure you would.
  • I celebrated a birthday somewhere toward the end of January, and I spent most of it moping.  However, I did remember to treat myself to an online shopping spree of epic proportions.  And then I celebrated by slathering myself with Philosophy’s Vanilla Birthday Cake and Buttercream Frosting body washes.  My shower smells like a bakery, which helps me forget about the fact that I have too much gray hair for a 24-year-old, and that I still can’t wash away that unsightly bathtub ring.
  • Bonus points if you got the TMNT reference in that last sentence.
  • A certain popular video game expansion pack that was released a couple weeks ago has given me a reason to live play WoW again.  Sheara will get to level 70 if only because she needs a flying mount to be able to fish the highland lakes in Terokkar Forest.  No, really.  Raiding?  What?  I pay 15 bucks a month to fish!  Level 66 and counting.
  • All hail the mighty Tax Refund!
  • Three letters:  Dee Vee Arrrrrr.  That’s right.  The S.O. and I finally joined the 21st century and signed up for digital cable, complete with DVR.  When he was little, my brother the bird bladder (sorry J!) would sit down with the rest of the family to watch TV, and five minutes into the show he’d say, “Mum, pause it, I need to go to the bathroom.”  My mother would respond with, “You can’t pause television, silly.”  Now, eighteen years later, my bro’s bird bladder dreams have been realized.  Who’s the silly one now, huh!?!  HUH?!?!

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the living room, obsessively pausing and rewinding 24.  Just because I can.

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happy hobbles!

So, it’s been a few days… done some stuff… and I have nothing relevant to say.  Time for another scintillating edition of…

What is Caro thinking right now?

  • I busted into my first Diet Coke at 9:43 a.m.  If that’s any indication of how this day will go, I should go home.  Oh, and there’s a stain on my shirt.  Which is, surprisingly, right-side out.  The shirt, not the stain.
  • There are new-job-vibes in the works for the S.O.  My fingers have been triple-crossed for a full day now.  They hurt, and it’s hard to type like this.  New job, please come through, preferably soon, so that I can uncross my fingers.  Thanks!
  • I’m so glad for this NaBloPoMo thing.  Not because I’m participating (bwahahaha, the thought) but because I haven’t been for want of new material from some of my favorite bloggers since the beginning of November.  Please don’t leave me, NaBloPoMo!  Work is damn near unbearable without you.
  • In that vein, I’m tempted to start a new blogging event of my own.  Let’s call it… iBlogNazi.  In order to participate, you must blog every single day for the rest of your life, solely for my personal entertainment.  If you forget to blog, I’ll send out a vicious army of squirrels to nibble on your toes, and then you’ll have something to blog about, wontcha?  Dance, minions!  Dance!  … What, you don’t think it will catch on?
  • I’m adding a subscription to JPG Magazine to my Christmas wishlist.  You can still vote on photos for the next issue if you haven’t already.  *hint hint*
  • Thank you, Pilgrims, for coming to America and growing food and dying and sharing a meal with the indigenous peoples, all so I can have a four-day weekend and eat myself into a tryptophan oblivion.
  • And finally, to leave you in the spirit of the upcoming holiday, a joke by yours truly:

What does a turkey with a broken foot say?
Hobble-hobble-hobble!

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can we skip friday entirely?

I have this burning desire to write something, but I have absolutely nothing to say.  Maybe this is a cry for attention.  Or perhaps I’m just desperate for the last 20 minutes of my work day to be over, and need whatever distraction I can possibly get.

So…

What is Caro thinking right now?:

  • I could really get into this bento thing.
  • I love my car, Tyrtle, a little green Volkswagen Golf.  It is a wonderful car, except this morning it leaked on me.  It seems there is a broken seal around the moonroof, because when the S.O. braked, water from last night’s rain came streaming into my lap.  Good morning, Caro!  Fancy a shower?
  • I do not have enough money to warrant having such a bad case of the gimme-gimmes.
  • There need to be more games like GrowCube.
  • Speaking of growing, my job is growing on me.  Growing on me like mold on stale bread.
  • I can walk!
  • I am going home to a new dishwasher!  Though word around the cubicle is, the S.O. left the house and forgot to turn off the tap.  I may be going home to a flooded kitchen, too.
  • 4:21?  It’s only 4:21?  Arrrgh!
  • Finally, I just want to take a moment to thank Mr. Columbus for making the upcoming three-day weekend possible.  Now if it would only get here faster.

 

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