Today was a big day in Lindsay’s Corporate Life. I won’t go into details, but there were really important presentations for really important people involved. I was crazy nervous and peed six times in 45 minutes.
There also may or may not have been a cape involved.
The Olympics Opening Ceremony is happening likenow and I can’t wait. It’s odd, with the time difference and prevalence of social media – I saw spoiler clips at work this morning. It looks like Anastasia’s princess fairytales threw up all over the Olympic Village, and I heard rumors of a snowflake malfunction (#SochiProblems). Social pooping and very dangerous face water aside, my butt will be firmly glued to the couch. Which really isn’t all that different from most Friday nights. Hey, back off. I’m like Cam and Mitchell – I get tired on Fridays.
It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and I can’t wait to celebrate with my sexy new husband, though maybe not how you would imagine. I am not interested in Hallmarky Mark Vday, dictating Andy send me eleventy billion roses at work, buy me chocolate I don’t need to eat (I’m looking at you, hips) and spend a ton of money on a fancy expensive dinner at a fancy expensive restaurant. I am into the Valentine’s Day that is all about loving and cherishing each other, and making the other feel totally, completely adored. As for dinner, I’d be happy if Sir Husband picked up some Taco Bueno and a bottle of my boyfriend pinot grigio.
I’ve been doing this weird thing, I think kids these days are calling it exercise. It makes me sweaty and uncomfortable and I hate it, but I’m tired of all the wrong parts jiggling.
Insert self-actualizing realization about aforementioned Taco Bueno and pinot grigio, and consequent all-the-wrong-parts-jiggling.
It’s almost my birthday and if you’re new around here, you might not know that my birthday is probably my very favoritest day of the whole wide year. Birthdays are absolutely holidays, and should be celebrated accordingly. In past years I’ve fully embraced the Parksandrectian “treat yo self” mentality, throwing myself week-long themed parties affectionately dubbed “Lindsaypalooza” with detailed daily schedules and mandatory attendance. This joyous season is almost upon us. Let the countdown begin.
The other night I took a shower with my cat. He was all about it while he was in the warm water, then afterwards when he was still wet he was deeply troubled and violently unhappy.
It’s Friday in bloggieland, which means it’s Back That Azz up over at my new girl crush Whitney Yoga Pants’s corner of the internuts. My jam today (and erryday) is We Are the Champions. Queen is always a good idea.
Unfortunately WordPress has a superiority complex and won’t let me embed a song from Grooveshark, so let’s all take deep, calming breaths; we’ll get through this together. Here’s a YouTube link, because I am a child and don’t know how to hack WordPress’ bitchy code.
In case you haven’t noticed me shamelessly teasing you like a great big hooker, there are exciting things just around the riverbend here at The Wife in Training. Stay tuned. And while you’re waiting, let’s be friends on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest and Bloglovin’!