And There is Only the Dance

An update on my fabulous life:

I am 99.987% moved into my chic new abode, but still waiting for cable, which makes it feel less like home, and more like a torture chamber. I've watched a whole lotta TV on DVD this last week to try to pretend I'm watching my regularly scheduled programming, but alas, even with an entire season of My So Called Life, a little It's Always Sunny, and some Freaks and Geeks, my inner channel surfer knows that I'm not. I'm about to start etching tally marks into the walls, prison cell style, to count out the days until those punks from the cable company show up. This is sure to displease my roommate more than me showing up on moving day with a life size Hannah Montana cut out and a six foot tall pink sparkly Christmas tree.

I've been having dreams about the current QB blowing me off for other girls, leading me to believe that I'm much more attached than I'm willing to admit, hence it's time to move on. Maybe it's just the threat of Valentine's Day looming in the future, but I plan to take a step back and indulgemyself in my imagined relationships with various celebrities and fictional characters. As for Valentine's Day itself, I think I'll lock myself in my room with a bottle of wine and spend the day writing ex-boyfriends hate mail.

I had my three month evaluation at work yesterday, which I pretended was like Hollywood week on American Idol. The decision not to fire my ass was like my ticket to Hollywood. Word is, after the three month probation period is up, it's nearly impossible for the higher ups to can me unless I set the building on fire or show up to work dressed like an enormous hot dog. I think it's time to pull out the bigger nose rings and dye my hair pink.

So, things are certainly not fast lane living, but they're not tumultuous either, which I suppose I support. However, I give myself about another two weeks before I get bored of being a grown up and go get a My Little Pony tattoo or sleep with someone inappropriate.

I've also decided that it's uncited quote week, hump day to hump day. So here, as John Stewart puts it, is your moment of zen:

Tear out those puny windows, rip down those narrow walls! This is just the beginning. I want a balcony, so I can wave down at the adoring crowds, but high enough that they can't see the disdain on my face.