Holy unintentional hiatus, Batman!

Yeah, I get it, my last blog post was literally last year. 

No, I didn't drop off the planet due to a very specific loss of gravity. No, I didn't lose my fingers In a freak thumb wrestling accident. No, I didn't become Amish and shun the ways of modern technology. 

The truth is I got super busy at work and most of my free time was spent sleeping. Like, the month of December, I had a total of 4 days off, 3 if you don't count Christmas day. I worked 113 hours into a two week paycheck period. I had several 11 hour days. Then it was Christmas, then it was new years, now we're here. 

The Boyfriend and I went to Thanksgiving dinner at Diane's house, Christmas parties for our respective works, we had Christmas together in California because neither of us had time to go home...I'm heading to Minnesota at the end of January. We celebrated new years, first with a big crowded party bar thing at Universal Studio City Walk, and the abandoned that for a quiet drink in a small bar for the actual countdown to midnight. The bar was better. 

Here is a bunch of pictures.

And most recently participated in the pantsless subway ride. 

Speaking of pants...(see, transition)

It is under my careful observation that there is no perfect pair of gray jeans. I've looked for the better part of four years for a pair of gray jeans that I liked. I had a pair, but every time I wore them it reminded me of David Bowie's pants in Labyrinth, and I am no David Bowie.

So, after buying and then returning several pairs because I refuse to try most things on because I'm impatient and hate stores...I finally found a pair that will get me by. 

But seriously, why is it so hard!?!!!!?! Most are too low, unless I want to dress like I'm 13 again, which I don't. Nobody wants to see my underwear when I sit down, the irony of that statement just a few paragraphs down from the pantsless subway ride picture. There is a time and a place for everything, and sitting is not the time or place for underwear. Also, I am not a 13 year old fashionista. I just want a pair of gray jeans that fit like the skinny jeans I own and love, just like that but in gray rather than blue.

So the ones I found weren't too low, too tight, and didn't invoke memories of 80s muppet movies..the problem? THEY HAVE NO FRONT POCKETS!!!!!!!!!! They LOOK like they have font pockets, but it's a lie. The pants lie. So, I still continue my search for the perfect gray jeans. Captain Ahab surrounded by the endless sea. Call me Ishmael. [insert Moby Dick in my pants joke here]

O.o

...anyway, here's to more regular posts again, now that my work has gone back to normal person hours. 

Where I've Been and Top 10 Signs Your Boss May Be A 1930s Mobster

I know, it's been a month.

First, I had my Wallmate (college friend) who I haven't seen in about 6 years, come out to visit with her girlfriend. SUPER EXCITING!!! They were here the week of Halloween. They were Alice and The White Rabbit, The Boyfriend and I were Magician and Assistant (The woman sawed in half gone wrong).

PICTURES!!!

So that was Halloween. It was great seeing my friends. Then it's been pretty much non-stop since then. I've been working extra hours and 4 to 5 hours on Saturdays as well, so writing sort of got put on the back burner. Once I got home, it was pretty much chillax and then bedtime. Other weekend activities, besides working were hanging out with a friend for a movie and lunch date and Disney with other friends that were visiting.

Then the weeks just sort of got away from me and now we are here; one week before Thanksgiving. Jeez.

On to part two of this post.

Top 10 Signs Your Boss May Be A 1930s Mobster

10. He has an accent, preferably from an eastern European country, like Russian or Armenian. Examples of sentences are "I took my dog to the vet last night to be shot" (translation, I had to have my dog's vaccinations updated at the vet." "Go and get the Johnny for me, I need my book."

9. He refers to the front office people as "girls" but not in a creepy or demeaning way.

8. He drives a black vehicle that is always perfectly cleaned and polished.

7. He has literally thousands of business contacts.

6. He has a legitimate business.

5. He is usually in a shirt and tie.

4. He has a second office that is somewhat hidden and sort of secret.

3. He owns guns.

2. He has contacts with the Police Department and makes monetary contributions.

1. He makes his own vodka.

Stressy McStresserson

This week (and the week before) have sort of been a climb to the top of Everest of stress and anxiety for me. Not because I was actually climbing Everest, but just for the mental picture. A lot of it has to do with things at work; feeling under the microscope, incapable, watched, paranoid. It's been exhausting and stressful. I've also had a couple meetings about my work, nothing bad, just going over things, but the anxiety takes that as free reign to jump aboard the 'i'm a failure and a screw up' bandwagon. Awesome, stop.

On top of that, I'm going back to Minnesota next week. Which is great and wonderful, and that always stresses me out and I have a habit of not applying the stress to the activity that is causing it, so things like my pen going missing or the blankets feeling like they are strangling me become the end of the world.

So, next week, you'll get some pics of Minnesota (theoretically) and if there is no post, it's because I'm in Minnesota playing with my friend's baby and living on her farm with the goats. (not, like in the barn with the goats, I'm sure I can stay in the house...but the farm has goats)

I think the point I really knew I was Ms. Stressy McStresserson was when I felt attacked by the messages inside of the Dove chocolate promises that I was eating by the handful in moderation.

It helps if you read the following in the batman voice. You know, The Batman Voice.

The entire message changes when you think of them as threats rather than suggestions.

Thankfully this week is almost over, I appear to have survived thus far, and going back to Minnesota will be relaxing and good and nice.

I'm going to go and buy some non-threatening chocolate...or maybe ice cream. Ice cream never tried to give me life advice.