So I am still coughing my face off, which is even less delightful than it sounds. I have diligently consumed the antibiotics and steroids and used my nebulizer all annoyingly regularly and such. And still, I am coughing my face off. But I did get some cough pill thingies tonight, so hopefully this unbelievably inconsiderately stupid cough will go away. Yay for cough squashing drugs!
Okay, so I am relatively certain I got one of the best Christmas presents in the history of EVER. My Asbys are not only going to let me use Pierre (again) to drive to Illinois to see my nieces and the fam for Christmas, which is really kind of above and beyond awesomeness all by itself, they also gave me an awesomely magnificently amazing present! As most folks probably know, The Bloggess is my hero. (I totally want to be her when I grow up.) I have read her first book, like, a zillion times, and it still cracks me up every time and I still find myself thinking “OMG she is me times a thousand percent awesomer!” So anyway, my Noodle and the Bitter Man are well aware of my adoration and gave me her new book for Christmas! Which, honestly would of been pretty much light-years beyond awesome, but then my Noodle had JENNY LAWSON SIGN MY BOOK!!!!! WITH MY NAME!!! So, like, my name is RIGHT NEXT TO HERS!!!!! I am totally mere centimeters from The BLOGGESS! I mean, more or less anyway. And I have forgiven my Noodle for meeting my hero without me, especially since I have a PERSONALLY AUTOGRAPHED Jenny Lawson book…and she totally promised to take me next time.
Quirky Christmas ornaments are kinda one of my fave things ever. This is my newest addition to my quirky ornament collection. I call her Hortentia. Behind her, that’s Lula. I think Hortentia’s rather ecstatic grin is a perfect example of the manic joy of Christmas. Who the hell gets up on Christmas morning and thinks, “Yay, it’s Christmas! I think I’ll go for a run!”???? Maybe someone just snapped under the pressure of the holidays or something. What a ridiculous idea for a commercial. I think I’m hungry. I totally want my own furiously happy taxidermied raccoon. I wonder if Santa gets all self-conscious when he sees studly male models in magazines. Like, does he sit and wallow in self-loathing for a minute after he downs some of those cookies? ‘Cause that would be pretty damn sad.
Gotta jet, marmoset!