Thoughts from the night out at the bar wherein The Archaeologist stood us up (again!):
Upon entering the bathroom
It's so weird that there are urinals in the girls washroom! It must be one of those Ally McBeal-esque unisex ones.
Upon sitting on the toilet
Um, actually, I'm in a guys washroom. I'm not drunk - I swear.
Upon exiting said washroom
Yup, that is definitely the traditional male bathroom pictogram
Bar room chatter:
Team Gingerbread: Uh, who are you texting?
The Pansy: No one.
Team Gingerbread: Is it The Goth Girl - who was actually supposed to come out as well, but instead stayed home to entertain with her manfriend. (thinking for a minute) Is it The Gentle Giant?
The Pansy: Maybe.
Team Gingerbread: He texted you?
The Pansy: I may have texted him...
Team Gingerbread: What happened to "Fuck that! I'm totally not talking to him first!?!
The Pansy: (devilish grin)
Showing posts with label Cliques. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cliques. Show all posts
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Team [Whipsmart]
Apparently, according to The Archaeologist and [redacted], I can sass (aka. take down a peg) pretty much anyone, anytime with amazing accuracy and comedic timing.
I of course take this to be quite the compliment and am also flattered that TA and [redacted] spend so much of their free time thinking about me.
I think this only came up because TA has decided to grow out his mustache in order to perfect his Hallowe'en costume, and some of my coworkers were excited to see/hear my violent reaction to his new 'perv-stache'.
I delivered, and in the process, TA tried to make fun of me for calling [redacted] 3 times over the course of one night. I quickly put him in his place and replied that I had not, in fact, called 3 times as he had alleged, but texted twice and called once (and I only called to let them know that we weren't waiting for them anymore because we were drunk and bored, so we were heading to the bar).
Then I made him feel bad for ditching out, and threatened to cut him off socially, I feel like a queen bee.
My mother would be proud.
I of course take this to be quite the compliment and am also flattered that TA and [redacted] spend so much of their free time thinking about me.
I think this only came up because TA has decided to grow out his mustache in order to perfect his Hallowe'en costume, and some of my coworkers were excited to see/hear my violent reaction to his new 'perv-stache'.
I delivered, and in the process, TA tried to make fun of me for calling [redacted] 3 times over the course of one night. I quickly put him in his place and replied that I had not, in fact, called 3 times as he had alleged, but texted twice and called once (and I only called to let them know that we weren't waiting for them anymore because we were drunk and bored, so we were heading to the bar).
Then I made him feel bad for ditching out, and threatened to cut him off socially, I feel like a queen bee.
My mother would be proud.
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Every sorority has its reputation
...and we're collectively known as the girls who don't put out. Which is fine by me, because we're also the fun party girls, and the surprisingly smart ones too, but it sucks for the boys that think we're loose just because we like to drink.
Last night we played a quick football game with the boys of Kappa Sigma which I had originally pegged to be a friendly pickup game but which actually turned into the mother fucking Super Bowl. There was yelling and I'm sure someone was near tears and it wasn't nearly as fun as I had made it seem. My team ended up losing by one touchdown.
We decided to hit up some frat houses after our game for some beer, there was a brief mention of quarters but we were hungry so we trotted across the street to the Phi Delt house and chowed down on free burgers and met some of their new rushes and after an extended recess we headed down the street to our former haunt, which had been bought out over the summer by a franchise of 'neighbourhood bars'.
At first we were sitting upstairs but we realized that we didn't really want to pay for all of our drinks that night so we moved downstairs even though that meant less seating for everyone.
One of our rushes kept casually pointing out guys she was digging and then I'd turn around and be all like 'Oh hey! It's James/Elliot/Paul or Todd (who stopped me and hugged me and asked if I remembered him - the answer was a regretful 'no, but I'd like to') she was pretty impressed that I had such hot friends but she declined my offer to introduce her.
One our our girls (The Christitute) spotted me for a pitcher because she was toting around a C-Note from selling some books earlier in the day which was just the beginning of the night. Once the pint glass was empty boys were offerning to top me off on a fairly regular basis and we floated between our table, the Phi Delt table (although some of them were ignoring us because of awkward hookup shenanigans) and the Delta Upsilon table after they showed up.
We vowed to close down the bar but we had been drinking heavily since about 8 (pm) and by 2 am we were ready to call it quits. I had assumed TC was going to be entertaining so I left her to her own devices and opted to leave with The Roadtrip Queen and Manitoba (our new roommate who may be rushing), but she left with us. When we got home we ended up finishing off TC's casserole and gossiping until The Drama Queen (another one of our new roommies who may be rushing. She's a drama student, not a bitch in case you're wondering about the name) got home and retiring shortly thereafter for some late-night booty call action.
I remembered this morning that one of the DU boys had asked me for my blog address so I'm assuming he's checking out what I wrote about him/his boys. I was still a little bit drunk when I woke up this morning so I'm going to drown my sorrows in coffee and cigarettes.
Last night we played a quick football game with the boys of Kappa Sigma which I had originally pegged to be a friendly pickup game but which actually turned into the mother fucking Super Bowl. There was yelling and I'm sure someone was near tears and it wasn't nearly as fun as I had made it seem. My team ended up losing by one touchdown.
We decided to hit up some frat houses after our game for some beer, there was a brief mention of quarters but we were hungry so we trotted across the street to the Phi Delt house and chowed down on free burgers and met some of their new rushes and after an extended recess we headed down the street to our former haunt, which had been bought out over the summer by a franchise of 'neighbourhood bars'.
At first we were sitting upstairs but we realized that we didn't really want to pay for all of our drinks that night so we moved downstairs even though that meant less seating for everyone.
One of our rushes kept casually pointing out guys she was digging and then I'd turn around and be all like 'Oh hey! It's James/Elliot/Paul or Todd (who stopped me and hugged me and asked if I remembered him - the answer was a regretful 'no, but I'd like to') she was pretty impressed that I had such hot friends but she declined my offer to introduce her.
One our our girls (The Christitute) spotted me for a pitcher because she was toting around a C-Note from selling some books earlier in the day which was just the beginning of the night. Once the pint glass was empty boys were offerning to top me off on a fairly regular basis and we floated between our table, the Phi Delt table (although some of them were ignoring us because of awkward hookup shenanigans) and the Delta Upsilon table after they showed up.
We vowed to close down the bar but we had been drinking heavily since about 8 (pm) and by 2 am we were ready to call it quits. I had assumed TC was going to be entertaining so I left her to her own devices and opted to leave with The Roadtrip Queen and Manitoba (our new roommate who may be rushing), but she left with us. When we got home we ended up finishing off TC's casserole and gossiping until The Drama Queen (another one of our new roommies who may be rushing. She's a drama student, not a bitch in case you're wondering about the name) got home and retiring shortly thereafter for some late-night booty call action.
I remembered this morning that one of the DU boys had asked me for my blog address so I'm assuming he's checking out what I wrote about him/his boys. I was still a little bit drunk when I woke up this morning so I'm going to drown my sorrows in coffee and cigarettes.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Yes, we are silently judging you
So it's official, I along with the rest of the 'Mean Girls clique' are quite possibly the bitchiest girls in the mall - and getting meaner as we speak.
I opened today with one of the other clique girls and we spent the first hour of work trashing one of the new hires (when we weren't ringing in mad sales that is). Then said new hire showed up for her shift at 11, and we didn't really stop trashing her, although we muffled our voices.
This was probably on the third shift that the new hire had worked and an hour into it, I'm almost certain that she was near tears. I had actually attempted to tone down my snarkiness, but I kind of lost it when one of the shoes we sell wasn't on display and I quietly hissed "We can't sell shoes if [the customers] can't see them!" as she walked past me - which is true, but probably could have been phrased nicely. I was simply annoyed because the previous day I had found 4 shoes that weren't restocked when we sold the display model.
Then I noticed this weird sickly, sweet smell in the back room. I didn't really say anything at first because it was just confined to that area, but a few minutes later I could still smell it and I had a mini lapse of judgement and just asked point-blank "What is that smell?" No one else knew what I was talking about, but I persisted. "It smells like melons!"
"Oh, that's me" said the new hire
"Oh..." came my delayed response
"Does it bother you?" she asked quietly
"Yeah, it makes me sick. I feel like I'm going to throw up!" I said, quickly adding that I was allergic to melons and even the smell makes me want to retch. I may or may not have seen tears begin to well up, but there were customers who needed to cash out, so I left her to her own devices in the back of the store.
I was literally seconds away from asking her to never wear that scent to work again but I really don't think that it will be a problem. She spent the rest of her shift avoiding my gazes and staying out of my way.
We'll see if she comes back to work. Her heinous laugh has gotten on the nerves of pretty much every other employee at the store - it's been likened to that of a wild animal, it's very jackal/hyena-like. It's really no big loss if she doesn't come back, so long as she doesn't state me as the reason for her quitting...
I opened today with one of the other clique girls and we spent the first hour of work trashing one of the new hires (when we weren't ringing in mad sales that is). Then said new hire showed up for her shift at 11, and we didn't really stop trashing her, although we muffled our voices.
This was probably on the third shift that the new hire had worked and an hour into it, I'm almost certain that she was near tears. I had actually attempted to tone down my snarkiness, but I kind of lost it when one of the shoes we sell wasn't on display and I quietly hissed "We can't sell shoes if [the customers] can't see them!" as she walked past me - which is true, but probably could have been phrased nicely. I was simply annoyed because the previous day I had found 4 shoes that weren't restocked when we sold the display model.
Then I noticed this weird sickly, sweet smell in the back room. I didn't really say anything at first because it was just confined to that area, but a few minutes later I could still smell it and I had a mini lapse of judgement and just asked point-blank "What is that smell?" No one else knew what I was talking about, but I persisted. "It smells like melons!"
"Oh, that's me" said the new hire
"Oh..." came my delayed response
"Does it bother you?" she asked quietly
"Yeah, it makes me sick. I feel like I'm going to throw up!" I said, quickly adding that I was allergic to melons and even the smell makes me want to retch. I may or may not have seen tears begin to well up, but there were customers who needed to cash out, so I left her to her own devices in the back of the store.
I was literally seconds away from asking her to never wear that scent to work again but I really don't think that it will be a problem. She spent the rest of her shift avoiding my gazes and staying out of my way.
We'll see if she comes back to work. Her heinous laugh has gotten on the nerves of pretty much every other employee at the store - it's been likened to that of a wild animal, it's very jackal/hyena-like. It's really no big loss if she doesn't come back, so long as she doesn't state me as the reason for her quitting...
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Mean Girls & Me
Today is my first day back at work after 4 days off, and I'm actually kind of excited.
I started my new job (working at the all-female skate shop) about a month ago, and according to one of the girls there, I've already worked my way into the 'work clique', which I didn't even really realize we had, but I suppose when you work (or even live) in an all-female environment, that factions form quickly - I mean look at my sorority house, we're all friends but some people are better friends than others.
The girls I work with are incredibly bitchy (but I'm no different) and for the most part, we all get along together and even hang out a lot outside of work. I've never really had a bad day after being reamed out by a customer, because the second an evil or unreasonable customer leaves we have an informal trash-talking session, which is very cathartic.
Not very mature, but I'm not exactly known for my maturity.
We do not, however, have a burn book - shoe bible, yes, burn book, no.
So to set a skate shop rumour to rest: Yes, we are silently judging you.
I started my new job (working at the all-female skate shop) about a month ago, and according to one of the girls there, I've already worked my way into the 'work clique', which I didn't even really realize we had, but I suppose when you work (or even live) in an all-female environment, that factions form quickly - I mean look at my sorority house, we're all friends but some people are better friends than others.
The girls I work with are incredibly bitchy (but I'm no different) and for the most part, we all get along together and even hang out a lot outside of work. I've never really had a bad day after being reamed out by a customer, because the second an evil or unreasonable customer leaves we have an informal trash-talking session, which is very cathartic.
Not very mature, but I'm not exactly known for my maturity.
We do not, however, have a burn book - shoe bible, yes, burn book, no.
So to set a skate shop rumour to rest: Yes, we are silently judging you.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Folk Nazis and Sorority Closeness...
...but before I get into those stories I have to tell you about this crazy girl (Drunky McTartlet) at work.
When I say crazy, you're probably picturing a somewhat funny drunk girl, but I'm talking 'off her meds crazy' here. Tonight was the Craig Cardiff show at work and what a show it was. Not only was Craig a superb performer, more on his music later, but his openers, Krista Hartman and Carrie Hyrniw, were pretty good too. Craig a fantastic storyteller, and an excellent singer-songwriter. Each new song was introduced with the mmost memorable anecdote; I'm going to buy his album once I pay off my credit cards again.
The only way to describe his live show, I didn't really get this feel from some of the songs streaming on his site, is to think about the first time you had sex with someone you really liked and had vowed to hold off until 'the moment was right'. The music is both raw and tender, and even though you know you've never heards the songs before, they're both familiar and comforting, but still exciting. You really don't think it could get any better, and then he starts playing another song, it really just took my breath away.
So then, the end of his set approaches, and this girl comes running out of the crowd, and up onto the stage. Everyone in the audience kind of gasps, not really sure what to make of the situation, and she starts talking to Craig. He seems a bit surprised, but not really taken aback, so everyone just assumes that he might know this girl, maybe they went to college together, or they've met somewhere before. They chat, she requests a song, he starts to play it, and she tries to accompany him (badly I might add). She eventually gives up on this, and lets him sing and play the guitar while she drums away contentedly on stage.
I see our sound tech Cleopatra, and she jokingly thanks me for not stopping the crazy woman from running on stage. I'm kind of confused, as this is the first time that it occurs to me that maybe he didn't know her after all. I overhear Cleo chatting with the bartender about how she's been accosted by this woman several times over the course of the evening and found her hiding out in the green room not once, but twice, and how she jumps into the sound booth and starts asking Cleo to explain how 'all this fun stuff works'. Cleo tells her politely that she does have a job to do, and if she could kindly get out of the sound booth, it would be greatly appreciated.
Apparently Drunky McTartlet (DM) has been consuming 0.5 litre carafes of red wine all night with her manfriend. I didn't really think she appeared, or smelled for that matter, that drunk but whatevs. She proceeds to stick around, clamber up on stage a few times until cleo tells her that she should probably go. DM tells her sob story about how she was supposed to go to the show with her boyfriend, but he's out of town so she went with a friend, and that she's only really interested in an autograph from Mr. Cardiff. He kindly obliges, even though she drew him this creepy picture and doodled his name with flowers around it.
DM tries to leave but is inexplicably drawn to Mr. Cardiff and keeps coming back to just stand there and stare. We all kind of had work to do, so we couldn't babysit her, but eventually, she was one of two patrons in the bar, the other one being her surprisingly indifferent friend. It finally dawns on me that this girl is mentally unstable, so I tell Cleo that's she's clearly someone who spends heer days talking to unicorns. Cleo then decides that she has to find out for herself, and asks the girl just that, to which she responds sincerely, 'yes, I've been talking to them since I was a kid'. Um, wow!
DM had to be coerced to walk down the hall by yours truly, and when she got to the door, which I had forgotten to lock (oops!), I had to talk her down off the ledge. Her ring came flying off her hand since she was shaking them so forcefully at me because I was making her leave. This caused her to burst into tears, the whole while her friend is calmly calling a cab on his cell. I finally scream at him that he and his ladyfriend 'need to get the fuck out of her, so I can leave!' He seems unfazed and putters around looking for her missing ring, which she claimed just fell off and was NOT staged. I finally manage to get her out the door, and promptly lock them behind her, pick up the ring, and shove it in the guy's (who's still talking on the phone) palm. They leave together.
Something didn't really sit right with me after they left, so I called Campus Security to look into her strange behaviour, only because buddy was so utterly disinterested in his alleged friend's plight.
-----
On to the topic of 'sorority closeness'. This term can be attributed to one of Pancake's friends. one night during December finals, Pancake went out to the bar with some girls from school. Waffle and I were super bored and ended up just hanging out in her room and locating stuff on Google Local. At around 11pm we decided that it would be hilarious if we got really drunk and crashed their party at the bar, so we walked to the liquor store and Pita Pit because we realised we hadn't eaten and came back home to start drinking. Long story short, we ended up not going out or drunk and just decided to wait up for Pancake to get home. We went to bed at around 3:30am, still no sign of Pancake, I retired to my bedroom.
Pancake eventually returns home, and the two girls that she went out with as well as Waffle end up sleeping over. The next morning, we're having breakfast and one of her friends pipes up and asks Waffle where her room in hte house is. Waffle is kid of confused and states that she actually doesn't live in the house, 'why would I sleep in someone else's bed if I lived here and had my own bed?' she asks. The girl is dumbfounded, and replies 'I dunno, sorority closeness'.
So I'm at work today and I work with a girl who's in another sorority on campus. We chatted up a storm for a good 4 hours - it was a pretty slow night, folk-lovers don't tend to be heavy drinkers. We talked about everything imaginable, right down to allergies, shopping, sorority activities, and good books we'd read recently. I've worked with this girl for a little over a year, and not once have we had an in depth conversation. The funny thing is, that even though we clearly bonded, if I were to run into her on the street and either of us had our sorority sisters with us, we would barely acknowledge that the other existed or that we had any intimate knowledge of the other one's life story.
An example of the situtation: She was leaving work one day, probably a year ago now, and some of her sorority sisters had come by to hang out/pick her up. As she's leaving she passes me in the hall and says bye. Her sisters immediately whip their heads around, look to look at her (as if she's broken some cardinal rule), glare at me (for causing this egregious breach of code), and then back at her as they pick up the pacc in order to avoid a possible conversation with a rival sorority member.
Girls are so stupidly competitive with each other that the mere fact that we're in rival sororities can affect friendships. I worked with a girl over the summer that is coincidentally my co-workers little sister in the sorority, and even though we spent 12-14 hours a day together, plus some nights and weekends since we had mutual friends, we never talk anymore - because it just wouldn't look right, and the girls in her sorority might talk. We saw her at a Greek event earlier this year, and she just averted her eyes. Pancake likened it to the Breakfast Club. We're all so caught up with our perceived differences that we fail to recognize the inherent similarities. Even though they were finally able to drop the stereotypes and enjoy each other as whole people, you know on Monday, none of them acknowledged each other in the hall. They went about with their own separate lives and acted as if Saturday morning's bonding session never happened. It's kinda sad really.
UGH! We can be so dumb sometimes...
p.s. The term DM came from Craig's website. I checked it out to link to it, and he had just posted a blog entry referencing her as such, lol. Also, I strike my co-workers as someone who be really into classic rock, um right. Oh and the term 'folk nazi' came from one of Craig's anecdotes about being late for a gig at a churn in Minnesota.
When I say crazy, you're probably picturing a somewhat funny drunk girl, but I'm talking 'off her meds crazy' here. Tonight was the Craig Cardiff show at work and what a show it was. Not only was Craig a superb performer, more on his music later, but his openers, Krista Hartman and Carrie Hyrniw, were pretty good too. Craig a fantastic storyteller, and an excellent singer-songwriter. Each new song was introduced with the mmost memorable anecdote; I'm going to buy his album once I pay off my credit cards again.
The only way to describe his live show, I didn't really get this feel from some of the songs streaming on his site, is to think about the first time you had sex with someone you really liked and had vowed to hold off until 'the moment was right'. The music is both raw and tender, and even though you know you've never heards the songs before, they're both familiar and comforting, but still exciting. You really don't think it could get any better, and then he starts playing another song, it really just took my breath away.
So then, the end of his set approaches, and this girl comes running out of the crowd, and up onto the stage. Everyone in the audience kind of gasps, not really sure what to make of the situation, and she starts talking to Craig. He seems a bit surprised, but not really taken aback, so everyone just assumes that he might know this girl, maybe they went to college together, or they've met somewhere before. They chat, she requests a song, he starts to play it, and she tries to accompany him (badly I might add). She eventually gives up on this, and lets him sing and play the guitar while she drums away contentedly on stage.
I see our sound tech Cleopatra, and she jokingly thanks me for not stopping the crazy woman from running on stage. I'm kind of confused, as this is the first time that it occurs to me that maybe he didn't know her after all. I overhear Cleo chatting with the bartender about how she's been accosted by this woman several times over the course of the evening and found her hiding out in the green room not once, but twice, and how she jumps into the sound booth and starts asking Cleo to explain how 'all this fun stuff works'. Cleo tells her politely that she does have a job to do, and if she could kindly get out of the sound booth, it would be greatly appreciated.
Apparently Drunky McTartlet (DM) has been consuming 0.5 litre carafes of red wine all night with her manfriend. I didn't really think she appeared, or smelled for that matter, that drunk but whatevs. She proceeds to stick around, clamber up on stage a few times until cleo tells her that she should probably go. DM tells her sob story about how she was supposed to go to the show with her boyfriend, but he's out of town so she went with a friend, and that she's only really interested in an autograph from Mr. Cardiff. He kindly obliges, even though she drew him this creepy picture and doodled his name with flowers around it.
DM tries to leave but is inexplicably drawn to Mr. Cardiff and keeps coming back to just stand there and stare. We all kind of had work to do, so we couldn't babysit her, but eventually, she was one of two patrons in the bar, the other one being her surprisingly indifferent friend. It finally dawns on me that this girl is mentally unstable, so I tell Cleo that's she's clearly someone who spends heer days talking to unicorns. Cleo then decides that she has to find out for herself, and asks the girl just that, to which she responds sincerely, 'yes, I've been talking to them since I was a kid'. Um, wow!
DM had to be coerced to walk down the hall by yours truly, and when she got to the door, which I had forgotten to lock (oops!), I had to talk her down off the ledge. Her ring came flying off her hand since she was shaking them so forcefully at me because I was making her leave. This caused her to burst into tears, the whole while her friend is calmly calling a cab on his cell. I finally scream at him that he and his ladyfriend 'need to get the fuck out of her, so I can leave!' He seems unfazed and putters around looking for her missing ring, which she claimed just fell off and was NOT staged. I finally manage to get her out the door, and promptly lock them behind her, pick up the ring, and shove it in the guy's (who's still talking on the phone) palm. They leave together.
Something didn't really sit right with me after they left, so I called Campus Security to look into her strange behaviour, only because buddy was so utterly disinterested in his alleged friend's plight.
-----
On to the topic of 'sorority closeness'. This term can be attributed to one of Pancake's friends. one night during December finals, Pancake went out to the bar with some girls from school. Waffle and I were super bored and ended up just hanging out in her room and locating stuff on Google Local. At around 11pm we decided that it would be hilarious if we got really drunk and crashed their party at the bar, so we walked to the liquor store and Pita Pit because we realised we hadn't eaten and came back home to start drinking. Long story short, we ended up not going out or drunk and just decided to wait up for Pancake to get home. We went to bed at around 3:30am, still no sign of Pancake, I retired to my bedroom.
Pancake eventually returns home, and the two girls that she went out with as well as Waffle end up sleeping over. The next morning, we're having breakfast and one of her friends pipes up and asks Waffle where her room in hte house is. Waffle is kid of confused and states that she actually doesn't live in the house, 'why would I sleep in someone else's bed if I lived here and had my own bed?' she asks. The girl is dumbfounded, and replies 'I dunno, sorority closeness'.
So I'm at work today and I work with a girl who's in another sorority on campus. We chatted up a storm for a good 4 hours - it was a pretty slow night, folk-lovers don't tend to be heavy drinkers. We talked about everything imaginable, right down to allergies, shopping, sorority activities, and good books we'd read recently. I've worked with this girl for a little over a year, and not once have we had an in depth conversation. The funny thing is, that even though we clearly bonded, if I were to run into her on the street and either of us had our sorority sisters with us, we would barely acknowledge that the other existed or that we had any intimate knowledge of the other one's life story.
An example of the situtation: She was leaving work one day, probably a year ago now, and some of her sorority sisters had come by to hang out/pick her up. As she's leaving she passes me in the hall and says bye. Her sisters immediately whip their heads around, look to look at her (as if she's broken some cardinal rule), glare at me (for causing this egregious breach of code), and then back at her as they pick up the pacc in order to avoid a possible conversation with a rival sorority member.
Girls are so stupidly competitive with each other that the mere fact that we're in rival sororities can affect friendships. I worked with a girl over the summer that is coincidentally my co-workers little sister in the sorority, and even though we spent 12-14 hours a day together, plus some nights and weekends since we had mutual friends, we never talk anymore - because it just wouldn't look right, and the girls in her sorority might talk. We saw her at a Greek event earlier this year, and she just averted her eyes. Pancake likened it to the Breakfast Club. We're all so caught up with our perceived differences that we fail to recognize the inherent similarities. Even though they were finally able to drop the stereotypes and enjoy each other as whole people, you know on Monday, none of them acknowledged each other in the hall. They went about with their own separate lives and acted as if Saturday morning's bonding session never happened. It's kinda sad really.
UGH! We can be so dumb sometimes...
p.s. The term DM came from Craig's website. I checked it out to link to it, and he had just posted a blog entry referencing her as such, lol. Also, I strike my co-workers as someone who be really into classic rock, um right. Oh and the term 'folk nazi' came from one of Craig's anecdotes about being late for a gig at a churn in Minnesota.
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