After an overwhelming response of comments yesterday (I had to stay up all night just reading them), I am supposed to write about the following:
- a day in the life
- upcoming travel plans
- Becky and possibly Brian (from his cryptic comment)
- the new 90210
- my boobs in the gray sweater
A Day in The Life (excluding work)
Bryan leaves the house 2 hours before I wake up. He kisses me and tells me later that it’s his favorite part of the day because I don’t really talk.
My alarm goes off to the BBC where 90% of the time I hate what they are talking about, but I am afraid to move the dial in case I can never pick up another radio frequency. You know how alarm clocks are.
Press snooze an average of 6 times.
Eat cereal and simultaneously marvel that I did not start eating cereal until my 30s.
Take a shower etc.
While pulling on pantyhose, get a run and think that it would be so nice if manicures and pedicures were cheap in London.
Pull out eyeliner and mascara from make-up basket and open mascara and realize for 49th consecutive day that it is empty. Close mascara and place back in make-up basket. Why throw it out and buy a new one when we can instead have this Groundhog Day-like moment of self-loathing.
Leave for work with improper coat/umbrella combination. Will not look at weather reports until a comprehension of the Celcius to Fahrenheit conversion has been reached. Which will be never.
[This is the part where I am at work.]
Smile on tube ride home because the commute is so short and dang those British if I don’t think they’re cute every day of my life with their Maths and Quite and being very Cross.
Think fondly back to the days when I cooked fun meals for dinner. Do this while asking Bryan to order for takeaway.
Watch tv while making a mental note to read more.
Bryan’s Day in the Life
Wake up early and kiss wife and give a silent prayer of thanks to the higher power for bringing this angel down from heaven above and pinching self because can’t believe luck.
Go to work where the company and all its internal divisions and titles are acronyms.
Have a meeting.
Go to another meeting.
And then another meeting. Talk about acronyms.
Eat lunch that wife has painstakingly created. It is the most delicious and nutritious lunch ever and marvel yet again that the universe bestowed such a fine spouse upon you.
17 more meetings.
Go home and drink scotch and read The Economist. So lucky to have perfect wife.
Upcoming travel plans
Isn’t it more fun to be surprised? Talin, Estonia, skiing in the Alps and South Africa are on the wishlist pipeline.
Becky and possibly Brian (from his cryptic comment)
I have known Becky since I was 3. The first thing that made her awesome is that she’s a twin and the latest thing that makes her awesome is she is always available to IM on gchat. In the middle of that awesomeness sandwich is so so much more.
Brian is one of several “Brians with an I” in my life. He is naturally very hilarious and also one of the few lawyers I know that I would actually want to represent me if I needed help. Sometimes when we worked together I wanted to kill him. We get along so much better in the blogosphere.
The new 90210
I confess. I have never seen it and don’t have ready access to US Weekly’s in-depth analysis. Is Kelly’s babydaddy that creepy guy that ran the Peach Pit ten years ago?
My boobs in the gray sweater
I swore I would never blog about my chest again. This is a civilized blog that my father sometimes reads. But if you must know, in those pictures the bra is padded. That’s how we do.