Unintentional hiatus. Work has been crazy busy, and on top of that we were moving to a new office. I didn't want anyone to catch me blogging amidst that insanity, but I have no Internet access at home. I'm pretty much living in the 18th century over there, but it's a nice 18th century in our new place.
But, our move is over, and I finally work in the actual fucking city and not in the gross suburbs! IT IS THE BEST. My sister works in the same building (random coincidence) and keeps trying to tell me I'll be over the whole riding the el, working amongst normal people and not insane freaks who play accordions at work during one of their weekly birthday parties (seriously. this happened.), having a million lunch options in walking distance thing. I swear to god, I never will. I will cherish these opportunities from this day forward and never ever take city living for granted again. (cut to a few months from now, when I'm not returning Chicago's phone calls quickly enough and she slaps me in public, ending it for good).
I have been compiling a list of things I meant to post here, but the list is in my brain, which erases things without my consent. Especially considering the tequila I've been drinking every weekend.
However, here is an interesting tidbit: I visited Target Tuesday evening, looking all run down like I do after working all day and wandering aimlessly about the store like I do anytime I visit. Luckily I had my sister back by my side when I spotted a dude I'd hooked up with last August. Running into someone you knew for only one night is strange (well, THREE NIGHTS really, considering he accosted me in a bar another time, accusing me of having been a bitch the first time, and then hit on my friend another night in a failed attempt to inspire jealousy after I didn't learn my lesson and abandon that particular bar forever...). I mean, I only associate this guy with that bar and then also with the next day, when I had to work at kicking him out of my house for an hour or so. But get this: he was buying paper towels in bulk with a girl. Rather than, you know, drinking and hitting on me.
Briefly, every stereotypical chick-lit-ish knee-jerk reaction these situations conjure up ran through me. Then I thought, sucks to be her! And checked out with my sister, as people around us continued playing that "lesbian couple, roommates or sisters?" game we encourage.