30th Birthday Plans Made

4 nights in NYC, 2 Pens games (Islanders and then the Rangers) and a vacation to sight see around the city. Surely NYC is not the place to be in Mid Feb but... its hockey season. It can't be any worse than Toronto in January or Pittsburgh in Feburary, right?

Famous last words.

Anyway, yay!!! Hotel room's booked on Long Island, tickets to the Islanders game will be cheap and airfare reasonable.

Can't. Wait!!

@YinzPittsburgh Short, Sweet and To the Point

Looking for a quick fix for Pittsburgh Info? Check out The YinzPitt blog and follow them on Twitter: @YinzPittsburgh

If it sounds like I'm selling something, I'm certainly not. I've followed Clay for a while, this is just my first formal shout out on my blog for you Tweeters out there to follow him too. He's a good guy. I also added him to my blogroll.

Just do it.

Hazy Thoughts in a Definite World

I find a certain comfort in having poor vision. 

When I take off my glasses, the world blurs together in a wonderful array of color and light and shapes.

Details are an afterthought. 

Nothing makes sense and nothing really has to.  I can feel my way through the world using my hands, my emotions and my sensibility.  Like Luke, I just know "its" there without seeing "it" with my eyes.

These are the things I think about in the shower, with my hair soaking wet and the scent of sweetpea floating through the air.  With Gwen and Moby singing South Side in the background, I gaze at the tile and consider how perfectly lovely it is when soft edges of beige and white meet uncertainly instead of so abruptly.

What a beautiful mess it is.  What a horrible blessing to see without seeing.  And to think, I can do it whenever I want!  Whenever I feel like losing myself in nonsense, I can just... take off my glasses.

Cooke Signs 3 Year Deal With The Penguins

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEEEEEEAH!!!!!!!!!

Monty Meets World, The Story of How I Got a Bichon Frise Puppy

You've probably been wondering where I've been for the past week.

When we left off, I was in hot pursuit of a black and white poodle mini mixed breed at the WPA Humane Society. On Monday of last week, I stopped back at the Humane Society AGAIN to express my interest in this puppy only to be told that he didn't pass his behavioral evaluation. I was livid... not because this ruled out any possibility of me rescuing him and bringing him home that day but because of the situation the employees of the humane society put that poor puppy in.

Imagine you're an 8 month old puppy and you're picked up by strange people as a stray dog. You're then taken to a noisy, smelly kennel where all you hear and see are large pitbull mixes barking, yelling and causing all kinds of a commotion day and night. You're kept there for a week before getting any sort of evaluation and then when some person finally does pay attention to you, you're so scared that you take a nip at him thus causing you to not be adoptable by a woman that's been calling and stopping in all week to see if you're available or by anyone else that may express interest in rescuing you as well.

The woman I spoke to reassured me that while it did put him on the chopping block (at EIGHT months old) they would be contacting local poodle rescues to see if one of them would take him first.

It was little reassurance. I was mad at the Humane Society, I felt horrible for that little puppy and I was defeated because there was nothing I could do to help him.

My boyfriend held my hand as we walked back to the car and told me not to worry, that someone would find him and love him just as much as I would have. "Did you call that woman from the paper?" I asked him in response; I just wanted to put the entire situation behind me as quickly as possible and we had seen a classified ad in the PPG for Bichon Frise puppies the day before.

"Yeah," he said. "But there was no answer. I left a voice mail but she didn't get back to me."

"Well let me try her again."

She answered and it turns out that she lived over in Brighton Heights, only about 5 minutes away from where the Boyfriend and I live in the Mexican War Streets. We set up an appointment for 5:30pm and went to dinner. I wasn't sure if I'd meet a puppy I liked at her house but it was worth the effort. I always wanted a Bichon Frise and the price she was asking was very reasonable.

My Droid GPSed us to her address easily. I was nervous because I wasn't sure what to expect but when we walked in the door, we were met by Barb (the woman who placed the ad) and her son, 2 adult Bichons named Shelby and Ricky Bobby (win!!!) and the 3 puppies they had left.

It was a wonderful mess of fluff and happiness. As I sat on the floor and was wonderfully attacked by puppies and dogs, Barb told us how Shelby had gotten pregnant by a neighbor dog who was also a purebred Bichon but the family had moved away prior to her realizing it. She told us she could have gotten a lot more than she was asking but there was no way for her to prove the bloodline.

Meanwhile, I extracted myself from the 3 puppies and watched them play together. There were only boys left, which was perfect because it was what I wanted. One of them kept coming back over to me. I'd put him back to play with his brothers but he kept coming back to get picked up and loved. When I asked the puppy if he wanted to come home with me and he gave me kisses, I looked at my Boyfriend.

"I like this one."

What ensued was a flurry of finding an ATM, naming him and going to PetCo for puppy supplies.

The naming process was easy since Bichon Frises are French. I took 5 years of French. "Mon tresor" translates directly from French into "My treasure." So I named him Montresor and we call him Monty.

A week later, to say this dog is my baby is to say the grass is green.

He's being crate trained and its a dreadfully slow process but he's getting the hang of it. The first few days, he was a little timid and scared because it was his first time away from Mommy and his brothers but he's doing a lot better now. He can climb up and down stairs now and loves to play with his Kong toy that the Boyfriend's mother brought for him. He's a little whore for attention so I worry about separation anxiety and can't wait to start being able to take him to the park.

He's going to the vet tomorrow.

He's still learning how to walk on a leash so I have to carry him wherever he goes which I think gets on the Boyfriend's nerves a little. Since I'm the type of person that's going to want to take him EVERYWHERE, I want to get a little brown and beige carrier that can double as a purse.

Haters gonna hate, the dog is my baby. Judge me, I dare you.

So here's some pictures: Monty meet the world. World, here's my Monty:

His collar is a skull and crossbone pattern because he's a badass.

We didn't have a crate for his first night home, so he had to sleep in a box. It's since been remedied.

Baby's first time in bed.

Hiding in the grass.

Monty and his favorite toy, a blue and white kong.

And Monty in the bath.

Mission Impossible: Puppy Adoption

Buster's picture came down from the Orphans of the Storm website.

 

Now they're supposed to be closed today.  If that dog go adopted out, so help me God...

Puppy Update

The Poodle puppy that I was interested in at The Western PA Humane Society turned out to be a stray that was microchipped.  At least, thats what I'm assuming seeing as how the website now says that they're waiting for the owner to come pick him up and he's not currently available for adoption.

 

My heart positively sank.

 

I started another search last night for Bichons in the area and its just terrible how many of these beautiful dogs end up in puppy mills thus making them unadoptable to people like me who don't already have a dog or really the time and patience to help them with their special needs.  I looked for more shelters in the area and ended up hitting on the Orphans of the Storm shelter in Kittanning.

 

The Boyfriend's brother and fiancee had adopted their Lab, Bailey, from Orphans of the Storm.  If you're not familiar with the Orphans of the Storm program, its what resulted from all the homeless pets and animals caused by Hurricane Katrina.  I'm not sure if some of these dogs are still waiting to be adopted from their ordeal in New Orleans or if Orphans of the Storm has turned into a full out animal shelter but wow... what a fantastic program!! 

 

While I hopelessly poured through the pictures and breeds, I felt a little defeated.  I guess it may turn out to be a 3rd time's the charm thing here because I did find a pretty little poodle mix puppy named Buster.  He's white with brown spots so it may be a poodle/terrier mix but he's super cute.  I'll be calling them tomorrow since they're closed on Sundays.

 

Wish me luck!!

I'm Not Angelina Jolie... But Adoption Shouldn't Be This Hard

Hufflepuff

Life is pretty good right now. I have a job I like. I'm happy in love. The Boyfriend is going back to school to become a nurse anesthetist assistant in August. We're living together in a beautiful area of town. I'm only minutes from Downtown Pittsburgh, the South Side and am within walking distance of several awesome places on the North Side. I have a great support system in place. I know I have friends, family and loved ones I can count on, depend on and will listen to me when I need them to or will just distract me when I need that.

Life honestly can't get much better.

With everything going so well lately, it only makes sense that the next step the Boyfriend and I want to take is getting a new puppy.

He and I both grew up with dogs so while we love going to the pet store to check out the cute little boys and girls in their windows, we would never really consider purchasing a puppy from a pet store. We want to adopt an orphaned dog.

Our search began at the North Side Western PA Human Society. My heart broke each time we went in and came out. There are so many wonderful animals: cats, dogs and bunnies there that would make wonderful companions and I'd want to take them all home with me so I could enrich my life and theirs.

Unfortunately, I suffer from horrible allergies. Because of it, I decided to limit my breed choices to something like a Yorkie Terrier mix, a Poodle mix or my all time favorite: a Bichon (or a Cavachon if I could find one). My Boyfriend, who grew up with Labs, Great Danes and Beagles, seemed to be quite skeptical at first of how severe my allergies were but after a few bouts of Pet Store Puppy Playing followed by Break Out Hell has come around to realize that its not just me trying to get my way. He was even looking up Poodle mixed breeds for me on his Eris the other night.

Yesterday after I got off work, he and I headed over to McKnight Road's Panera Bread. He asked a few of the girls that worked there if they knew any pet stores in the area where we could go spend a few hours daydreaming about dogs. A lady overheard his questions and told us about Animal Friends on Camp Horne Road. I Google Mapped our way there and was stunned at how nice their facility is.

Lawns are immaculately manicured. There are fountains and sitting areas. There's a pet store inside for treats, collars and other pet accessories. It's clean and even commercial looking in some aspects but is completely run on donations which is just inspiring. Most of the staff are volunteers. They're kind, informative, knowledgeable and attentive to each animal's specific needs. And they're biggest goal is to find loving, safe homes for each one of their current tenants.

As soon as the Boyfriend arrived on property, we were greeted by a sweet lady behind their reception desk. She pointed the way to the dog area and adoption desk. Roaming the halls, you sort of felt as though you were back at school. Every few feet, there was another door and another hall. Each room was filled with animals that had either been found as strays or surrendered by previous owners. Each site, as comfortable as it seemed, was sad because you knew that each animal had its own story to tell and that it wasn't one that was necessarily happy.

As we wondered around, we found 2 Bichons up for adoption. I was elated. Though the dogs were older, I would still be happy to take either of them in to live out their days in happiness.

Unfortunately, we were told that both were found as breeder dogs in a puppy mill and, since we didn't have a dog already, couldn't be adopted out to us. The woman that helped us told us that they had spent 8 years in chicken coops and just really had no idea how to be a dog. They needed an older dog to teach them. Their story was heartbreaking. Not because I couldn't take one of them home but because no animal should have to live like that.

People are assholes.

Two windows later, we found a group of Boxer/Beagle puppies named Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. They were 2 months old and all 4 had big blue "application pending" signs. I didn't care. We asked about Hufflepuff. She was too cute to pass up, regardless of not being "hypoallergenic" her little personality seemed like it might be worth it. Besides, if the first family that showed interest in her didn't follow up then maybe the Boyfriend and I were looking at our new family member.

The woman explained that in order to set up a Meet and Greet with a puppy, we had to first fill out an Application to do so. They were extremely through. They asked about everything from homeownership (which they DO run) to how much money we'd expect to spend a year on a dog to what we'd do if we ever had to give a dog up.

We filled it out, she went over it with us and then took us to a room where we waited to meet Hufflepuff.

I turned to the Boyfriend unconsciously and said, "I'm nervous. Is it weird that I'm sort of nervous."

He laughed, "Why are you nervous?"

"Because it feels like we're being considered a candidate for adopting a baby."

Like I said, they're extremely through.

Our Meet and Greet with Hufflepuff lasted over an hour. We spent a lot of time talking to the woman about different breed types and what to expect from a Boxer/Beagle since I really had no idea. I wish I got her name, she was so helpful and made a lot of recommendations for breeds we should look at for someone like me that needed a "hypo" puppy.

I tried not to get my hopes up but as we left the facility, I couldn't help but wonder "What if?" As we drove back to McKnight, the Boyfriend and I discussed everything from naming options to collar colors to what would happen if the other applicant showed up to claim her. I just said, "Well if its not meant to be, its not meant to be."

When we pulled into Best Buy, he told me that he had a missed call.

It was the shelter.

The previous applicant showed up right after we left to claim her.

Bastards.

Serves me right, really. My left eye blew up like a giant, red balloon 45 minutes later. That was my "it wasn't meant to be" moment of Zen. Thank you, Universe. God, was she cute though.

Meanwhile, back on 6/9, a black and white poodle mini mix was dropped off at the Humane Society as a stray. With being a stray, he's got a 48 hour observation period to go through before he gets run through some behavioral tests, gets vaccinations and medical evaluations. I've been watching this dog like a hawk on their website because I don't want him getting swept away by another family without me even getting the chance to meet him first. I don't know if he's the puppy for me but I still want to meet him.

We stopped by the Humane Society again today to inquire about him since it's been 2 days since he was dropped off. The receptionist told us that he hadn't been given his behavioral yet and thus wasn't on the floor. He wouldn't be until tomorrow, 9/12 in the afternoon.

I left feeling rejected.

They say that this is the season for puppies, which I completely believe. I'm not in a rush and I certainly don't want to make any mistakes. But dammit!! This is getting really frustrating.

10 Reasons Why Watching Marion Hossa Lift the Stanley Cup Feels Like Watching My Best Friend Give My Boyfriend a Blow Job

1) It's awkward.

 

2) It's infuriating.

 

3) You know exactly what it tastes like.

 

4) You can't do anything but just sit there and watch.

 

5) You feel betrayed.

 

6) It leaves a bad taste in your mouth.

 

7) It's painful to watch when it gets kissed.

 

8) You wonder what people will say when they find out the next day.

 

9) You just feel like crying.

 

10) Wait WHO won the Stanley Cup????

Philly Phalls Phlat.

I hope Hossa gets traded. That's all.

Pretty in Pink

I finally got my house keys today.

With the last night's unfortunate events still fresh in my mind, I told the boyfriend in no uncertain terms that it was time for me to get my own set of house keys. I was positive that sending texts to him through the day regarding the matter was sure to make it happen sooner rather than later since every good man loves a nagging girlfriend.

When he picked me up this afternoon, the first thing out of my mouth was, "Babe, do you wanna go to Home Depot?"

"...Not really, why? What's at Home Depot?"

I stared at him. Could he seriously be so brazen and male to genuinely forget that I was locked out of the house for FOUR HOURS last night which resulted in me getting hit on by eStalkers and Old Stoner Men with Handlebar Mustaches? I wanted to remind him of all this unpleasantness but instead said, "Keys Babe. Keys."

"What keys?"

Somewhere deep inside my brain, a little voice said his full name. I, however, did not. I managed to squeak out, "House keys, Babe" instead of totally losing my shit right there in the car since we had just talked about it before I left for work not to mention the half dozen text messages I had sent him during the day.

"Oh! Right. Wait. You mean THEEESE keys?" And he proudly unveiled a set of pink keys set with rhinestones with the word "Princess" written across them with a matching key chain.

I squealed like a little girl and made a dive for them. Only my amazing Boyfriend would know me so well as to get me keys in my most favorite of colors with shiny little baubles on them that will distract me at a moments notice.

It's also a good tactic to get me to shut up whenever I get really annoying.

I asked him to tell me the story of getting me pink keys.

He told me about going to Home Depot and the different patterns that the keys were available in. He told me that he picked out my keys and the guy behind the counter looked at him and said, "Really? You don't look like a princess."

He replied, "Listen Buddy, what I do in my own personal time is my business."

My Boyfriend invents brands of awesome.

What a Lovely Way to Start a Morning

I got dropped off at my usual corner of Penn and 10th this morning for work. 

 

The light was red as I kissed the Boyfriend goodbye and climbed out of the car.  Bleary eyed, I reenacted my kindergarten rules of "look both ways before jaywalking" even though the light was red.  There was a beige-colored Nissan doing at least 45 down Penn Ave which is pretty impressive at 6:30am because of the city buses.

 

Anyway, when the driver saw me ready to jet out into the street, he honked at me, slowed down and waved me through... which honestly, I was going to just walk anyway because he had the red light.  When I got to the other side of the street, I heard this bellowing voice from behind me scream.  "YOU'RE WELCOME!!!!!!"

 

I turned around and looked at him and just started laughing hysterically.  The driver was so fuming mad at me for not waving thank you to him that he was making obscene hand gestures at me through the glass.  Amazed and wanting to egg him on more, I yelled back to him through laughing, "Really?  You had to stop anyway."

 

As I walked toward French Street, the light turned green and my Boyfriend drove past me wondering why I was cracking up while the driver behind him laid on the horn at me as he drove through the intersection.

I Couldn't Make This Up if I Wanted To.

The first rule of the internet is to always protect your identity.

I like to think I've always adhered to that. I don't give out personal information, I don't put credit card or social security information on unprotected sites. I know what phishing is and I avoid it and generally follow the cardinal rule: don't be an idiot.

Then Foursquare came along.

Foursquare, if you're not familiar with it, is a new brand of social media. It's a game which allows online people to check in to real life venues in a sort of huge game of Monopoly, just without the money. The more times you check into your favorite bar over the course of 2 months, the greater your chance to become mayor... and at some places, like Starbucks, you can earn discounts at said venues for being the mayor.

Since March, I've become as addicted to Foursquare as I have Twitter. I tweet my locations thru Foursquare. I cross the Clemente Bridge and I have to check in to protect my mayorship from Eddie B. Ditto my mayorship of the Starbucks on 6th and Penn from Annie C. If I lose one of them, I silently obsess about getting it back.

Ok maybe not quite that far but close.

Listen, I'm the fucking mayor of the City of Pittsburgh on Foursquare, bitches. This shit is intense.

Anyway, it was all fun and games until...

I got off work today at 3pm, walked down to my Starbucks per my usual routine and spent a few hours there listening to music and trying to think of a good topic to blog about. I gave up around 7 and headed home to the Mexican War Streets.

...to find the door locked.

My boyfriend. My wonderful, charming, amazing, better than everything else in the world boyfriend had forgotten to leave the door unlocked for me and won't be home from work until 11pm.

My boyfriend. My boyfriend who is damn lucky I love him more than anything else in this entire world because if I was anyone else... they'd be STRAIGHT LIVID.

My boyfriend. My boyfriend who should be thanking his stars for having such a great, understanding, loving, supportive girlfriend who knows that shit happens.

My boyfriend who will be hearing about this if we ever get into a fight over me forgetting something really, really important and he gets really really mad.

My boyfriend.

Anyway... not having a better idea of how to kill time for 4 HOURS I decided against sitting on the stoop and headed down to the Monterey Pub for a beer. It's as good an excuse as any for a Smithwicks.

As soon as I walk in the door, I reached in my pocket to grab my phone and check in on Foursquare. I bellied up to the bar, unloaded my laptop etc and wait fervently for the boyfriend to get back to me via text with some form of an apology.

By the way yes, I'm the asshole at the bar with a laptop. Fuck you.

Anyhoo: I ordered my wings, get my apology and hope the douche bag in the tan suit at the end of the bar decides to get it into his head to hit on me. While I text, type and tweet I suddenly get a tap on my shoulder.

"Excuse me, you've got to be Jennifer."

I turned around. Oh, it's the douche. *sigh* I smiled anyway, my friend Brian knows one of the managers so this may be a small world after all. "Yes... are you Brian's friend."

"No no no. Haha you won't believe this but, I just got here and saw that you were checked in here on Foursquare too. I liked your facebook, so you read tarot???"

You're fucking kidding me, right? Buddy you're using fucking FOURSQUARE as a pick up line? Dude... like I've seen and heard lame and baby you're it. Plus you pick the shittiest thing about my facebook profile to ask me about.

I guess it doesn't hurt that it also says my favorite color is pink and I'm wearing a pink cardigan today but dude... seriously??? Seriously!!! Jesus.

Luckily, another girl walked in and he diverted his attention to her. I think he was actually meeting her here so the fact that she walked in just as he was chatting up some other broad was too perfect. The look on his face was breathtaking.

Anyway... wow. My fucking life. Only could this shit happen to me. I'm going to be facepalming for the rest of the week, thanks "Michael L."

The Eye of the Beholder

I'm at the Pittsburgh Arts Festival right now. While I'm walking around with my now Live In (yep you read that right, we're living together now) boyfriend, I realized that I still have a print of Colleen Ross' Unforgettable wrapped up in a corner back at my parents house.

My exhusband got it for me shortly before we split up.

Its a good piece, its 100% vanity to hang it up... I have to sort of agree with Brad when he says that. But he also says he doesn't want it in the house because he thinks its tacky since it looks like me.

So my question now is... wtf do I do with it???

This is Why I Don't Recommend Cabs in Pittsburgh

I got to yell at a cabbie yesterday.

To some, this may not sound like a big deal, it could even be a turn off. But if you work in the service industry in downtown Pittsburgh, you may completely understand the thrill of being able to bitch out one of these feisty sons of bitches with little to no repercussion.

After work, fate had me in at my favorite Starbucks location on 6th and Penn in the heart of the Downtown Cultural District. I ran into a number of my favorite people: Micha from Verve Wellness and Richard Danielpour among them (yes I'm totally name dropping). After a bit, I decided to head home via cab. I stopped off at my old stomping grounds of Renaissance Pittsburgh Downtown on 6th and Ft Duquesne to see if my old coworkers could help a girl out with at least a cab company phone number or giving me a taxi they had at the stand.

If you don't know about Pittsburgh drivers, here's a tip: if you're not going to the airport, they're not interested in taking you somewhere. You really have to fight, argue and verbally berate one of them to convince them to take you from Downtown to the North Side, especially in Bucco's traffic.

My friend, Mike, took the liberty of calling a cab just as one showed up at the stand. The bellstaff at Renaissance gave it to me but when I went to open the car door, it was locked. The driver rolled down the rear window and called over his shoulder, "Where you headed ma'am?"

"Over to the North Side."

He shook his bald head vigorously and said, "Nope. No way!"

I took great offense to this and started screaming on the sidewalk in front of Giovanni's Pizza, "What the hell do you mean, 'No.'? I'm willing to pay you and tip you to take me over to Monterey Street and you're telling me no? What's wrong with you?" etc etc etc. I think I made up some words as I went.

Meanwhile, 6th Street traffic totally had my back. As this asshole was trying to pull away, no one would let him out. I secretly laughed at his misfortune on the inside as he turned over his shoulder at me again and said, "Whatever lady, get in the cab."

He called me "Lady."

The trip from Downtown to my house on Monterey Street was fairly uneventful. Yellow Cab called him when we got to the 7th Street Bridge and asked him to go pick up a fare at Renaissance. He replied, "I think I just picked her up." Get fucked buddy, he was a lot nicer to me after that.

I had him let me off on the corner of Monterey and Jacksonia and he was most displeased with me when I offered my debit card instead of cash but ate his words when I tipped him well.

The moral of this story: Be nice to people even when they piss you off. You never know who's dealing with a family member dying of cancer, a job loss or a fight with a significant other. You may be the person who can brighten their day or you could be the person to make it worse. You also don't know if that miserable person is a philanthropist in need and just appreciates your time and help.

Which is why I thanked him profusely even though he was a giant dickhead.

Yes, its a Rice Cake.

I got hungry and in trying to watch my ever growing girlish figure, I opted to get creative.

The specimen we have here is a Chocolate Crunch Quaker Rice Cake with whipped cream mixed with Ghiradelli hot chocolate mix and slice strawberries on top. 

Believe it or not, its quite filling and less than 100 calories.

DRRRRROOOID

DRRRRRROID

Ohi

Been a few days, hasn't it? Get used to the slow season now that Pens hockey is over.

The Flyers are properly shitting the bed and I'm going to die laughing if Chicago actually takes this Cup in a sweep. What a shame, honestly. It's been a great season and this is how we fans get to enjoy the end: Thing 1 vs Thing 2 in the Who Gives a Fuck Finals.

I've lost some friends cheering for the Flyers. But then, I lost some friends when I said that Phantom Menace was better than a New Hope. I stand by Ron Hextall like I stand with Darth Maul: by hiding in a corner and hoping they don't hurt me.

Ron Hextall would kick Darth Maul's ass if Darth Maul was brave enough to enter his crease.

If you're possibly wondering why I keep talking about #27, its because he's the only Flyer I could ever say anything nice about... although, I'm starting to really enjoy watching Carcillo get pissed and mouth off at someone else's team.

I was calling Flyers in 6 just to be a smartass but I've since seen the light: they listen to Bon Jovi while suiting up not to get psyched but because that's all they're doing, Living on a Prayer.

Chi-town's taking this bitch to the local ice cream parlor and making a Root Beer Float out of it. Chicago in 5. Maybe 6 if Briere starts crying, I heard his tears cure cancer and score top shelf.

Apologies to my friend, Ryan, who's a huge Flyers fan. Your boys did me wrong and have shown me a new reason to hate them... though I am finding these finals immensely entertaining because of them.

In other news, it's a beautiful day here in downtown Pittsburgh. I'm officially the Foursquare mayor of my favorite Starbucks location on 6th and Penn which means that I get $1 off my However-You-Want-It Frap... I'll take a Grande Caramel Lite Frap with 5 pumps of Italian Roast, extra caramel sauce and whip.

I'm a fucking walking oxymoron. Judge me, please.

Now that I've started a new job, I'm starting to realize what a small world exists outside of my bubble. In the 30 minutes I've spent sitting here at Starbucks (looking like a total yuppie I might add with my Droid "Droiding" every 4 minutes while I blog and listen to music on last.fm) I've run into 2 people I used to work with. One was quite a pleasant experience since I haven't seen him in a few months, the other...

Well, you'd never know that I hate her.

It's great to gush over how AWESOME life is to someone when you know they hate theirs. Do I feel like a big person? No. Do I feel validated? Yes! She used to make my life a living hell. You bet I'm happy to tell her how great I'm doing.

I have no problem admitting my immaturity.

The boyfriend and I are all but living together.

If you think I didn't enjoy writing every inch of the last sentence, you're fucking stupid. I'm patiently awaiting a key to the house. It's like getting a key for the front door is the validation for the Tiffany's Key he gave me for Christmas, like a practical and tangible thing behind the symbolism.

Fuck, I love that guy so much.

Hey, I have a new blog follower: @techburgh on Twitter. Hi, Andy. Welcome to my wonderful world of writing. Follow him on Twitter, he's a good guy.

My phone keeps "Droiding" loudly on my table and drawing dirty looks from iPhone users in close proximity. Hey boys, don't hate on the cute girl with the laptop because her text notification is not only customizable but that it's default is so much cooler than yours that it's not even worth changing.

DRRRRROOOID

PS yes kid, I'm using the only working outlet in this place. Get fucked and enjoy summer school. Bwahahahahaha!!!