I thought I’d do a life update, because for the most part I’ve been MIA from blogging. I used to bombard everyone with blogs at 10 am every.single.day. However my new job frowns upon spending work hours doing personal things, so I’ve had to save blogging for my lunch hour but I miss my blog friends! Who, will be real friends. YES YOU WILL . AND THEN WE WILL MEET IN PERSON AND I’LL WEAR A RED ROSE SO YOU KNOW WHO I AM. MUAHAHHAHA.
The title of this post is from the book of the same name. I haven’t read it, but every time I’m looking for something or someone, I say “Where’d you go, Bernadette?” and nobody understands. Anyways. my life is sad.
January was a blur. I started my new job, which actually uses things I studied in school, which makes me feel like a grown-up, which means I’ve actually gone out and bought wrinkle cream because I’ve noticed my skin is SHIT now that I’m an old hag.
I don’t mind the drive (it’s an hour and a half each way), but I had to get a new car because my little old car Beverly, wasn’t cutting it. Gas was a killer, she had no heat. Ugh. It was like putting a race horse down. I got a little e-mosh!
But then my friend who sold me my new gem said , “Look! Your new car is over there!” and I said, BYE FELICIA! and ran to my new baby, who I named Grace Kelly.
Yes, it’s a Hyundai Elantra. Yes, that’s a chicks, car. But tough tits. I likes what I likes.
So, I get’s my grown-up car, but there’s that little nagging voice in me that says, “FOREVER YOUNG!” and asks Matt to take me to Medieval Times for a belated Christmas present. We paid extra to be front row. I made him buy me a $25 headpiece because, duh – I’m obsessed with Game of Thrones, and we spent the evening yelling at knights and having them break character. Seriously.
All it takes is a, “BURN IN HELL, THIS IS TREASON” when it’s dead silent and you can see the actors look around like, “WTF is that chick’s problem.”
My problem is you’re a traitor, and that you can’t joust for shit.
On Jan. 22, the Manpanion and I celebrated two years together. One day I’ll tell the story of how we got together. It involves a break-up*, a trip to Australia, and a drunken phone call on my birthday. Long story short, we decided to go ice skating to celebrate. So, I swept my hair up in a pony, bought some leggings (which I hate) and strapped on some skates for an evening of romance and bruised tailbones.
I hadn’t been on skates since I was 11. I used to skate competitively, and my mom was a professional coach, but when I hit puberty and my dad decided to date other women while he was married to my mom, I went through my “Eff-the-world, why am I developing birthing hips” phase and hung my skates up. So, on our anniversary, I thought it would be easy to get my sea legs back and do a double lutz, but alas. I fell. I fell hard on my Kim K bum.
-My school friends and I had a karaoke night and I sang Shania Twain to a bar full of cougars
– I spent a month’s worth of allocated “fun money” on NYX cosmetics which is my new addiction
– I went and played volleyball with my co-workers and had such bruised wrists, I looked like I spent an evening with a former host of CBC Radio Q (Google it)
Oh and last but not least…..
My cousin and I booked our trip to Paris and London!
That’s right! From May 1st to May 16 I’ll be taking this train wreck international!
If you have any ideas suggestions of where we should go, let me know!
For my new real friends – follow me on Instagram for photos of my cat, niece, cat, cat, cat, niece and dog! minimal selfie guarantee @mselizabethr
Until next time,
*This post was edited and is a reminder for me to check myself, before I wreck myself. My apologies to those who deserve them. You know who you are.