this isn't your grandmother's Christmas party

WORST. DAY. EVER. Week is almost over and I will tell you how I know that. Um, well, it's almost time to leave work for THE WHOLE WEEKEND. I think most of my problems will magically melt away as soon as I step out of the building. I'm so sick of this place, you guys. It frustrates me so much that I'm not sure if I'm going to cry or call someone a douchebitch or punch someone in the face or all of the above.

Do you want to hear a Christmas miracle? Somehow, I am all done with my Christmas shopping. I banged it out last night (hahahahaha) at Target and then I wept with happiness. True story. Target is magical, so it was fitting that I'd finish my shopping there. Of course, I still have to wrap everything, but my plan on Christmas Eve is to wrap presents, drink, and watch The Sound of Music. I did the same thing last year, only I watched Harry Potter instead of The Sound of Music. What? I don't mock your Christmas traditions.

I have the most exciting plans tonight FOR REALSIES. Heidi and I are going to Tamara's to help make Hanukkah cookies, and there will also be pizza and wine and Love, Actually. Things just don't get much better than that. The only thing that could make it better would be if James McAvoy came in and did a sexy dance for us while we were baking. I'm not sure how much help I'll be with the actual baking, but I know I will be REALLY GOOD at taste-testing. Someone has to make sure the frosting isn't poisoned and I will volunteer to take one for the team.

Tomorrow, I'm celebrating Christmas with my dad's side of the family, and Joe, the brave soul, is going with me. I'm hoping we play Scene It again because if Joe and I are on the same team, we will totally win. No question. The other team will be lucky if they even get to answer any questions. Do you hear that family? We will own your asses. OK BYE MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I've learned there are three things you don't discuss with people: religion, politics, and the Great Pumpkin.

So. I signed up for NaBloPoMo again this year, and will be posting every day in November. Remember how I did it last year? And then didn't blog for all of December? Yeah, we'll see how it goes this time.

I'm going to make it easier on myself, though. I started some stories . . . um, a long time ago and posted the first part, but WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW is I've been working on them in secret ever since then. And when I say working on them, I mean I'll write 100 words about every two weeks, when I remember I'm supposed to be writing stories. So I'll be continuing one or both of those throughout November so I don't have to come up with stuff about my life to write about every day. You know, I say that is my plan right now, but that could very well change tomorrow. I think you know by now that you should take everything I say with a grain of salt. What does that even mean? Take it with a grain of salt . . . what?

Well. According to Wikipedia:

(With) a grain of salt is a literal translation of a Latin phrase, (cum*) grano salis.

In common parlance, if something is to be taken with a grain of salt, it means that a copious measure of skepticism should be applied regarding a claim; that it should not be blindly accepted and believed without any doubt or reservation. According to the Oxford English Dictionary "to take 'it' with a grain of salt" means "to accept a thing less than fully". It dates this usage back to 1647.

The phrase comes from Pliny the Elder's Naturalis Historia, regarding the discovery of a recipe for an antidote to a poison. In the antidote, one of the ingredients was a grain of salt. Threats involving the poison were thus to be taken "with a grain of salt" and therefore less seriously. An alternative account says that the Roman general believed he could make himself immune to poison by ingesting small amounts of various poisons, and he took this treatment with a grain of salt to help him swallow the poison. In this version, the salt is not the antidote, it was taken merely to assist in swallowing the poison.

So BASICALLY I just compared my words to poison, and if you drink the poison, take some antidote that has a grain of salt in it. Or you could just try eating a grain of salt, but you'll probably die. Sorry.

Last night, I went over to my parents' house to help them pass out candy, although I mostly stood there staring out the window, hoping this kid on a skateboard would fall down, oh, and also drinking wine and eating my weight in tiny Twix bars. There was a little discussion of the upcoming election, and I may or may not have promised my sister $5 if she voted for Obama. The offer still stands, Mindy.

I'm KIDDING! I'd give her way more than $5. ZING!

Um. Anyway. It being Halloween and all, we were allowed to dress up at work today. I went the Jim Halpert Three-Hole-Punch route, meaning the lazy route. I'm not Three-Hole-Punch Jennie, instead I'm Jennie on the Weekend. My costume includes the following: jeans, sweater, Chuck Taylors. There weren't really any good costumes at work this year. No Storm Troopers or Marios. We did get to go to the conference center for hot cider and snacks and OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS they had tiny pies! You know on Pushing Daisies? When Chuck makes cup-pies? THEY WERE JUST LIKE THAT. Adorable.

And now I'm sitting here wondering if someone spiked my cider, because I'm feeling a little fuzzy and also my face is all warm. I mean, I just wish someone would have TOLD me the cider was spiked. I would have had more.

*hee

this is an absolutely true (boring) story

Oh my gosh, you guys, do I ever have some exciting news. Hold onto your butts (thank you, Samuel L. Jackson) because this? Is going to be amazing.

I don't know if you know this (but I'm kind of a big deal), but every Monday at Subway is Free Cookie Monday. I try not to make going out to lunch a habit, but I can't resist free cookies. So today, I went to Subway to get my usual (turkey on wheat) and the lady at the cash register was all, "for here or to go?" and I was all, "for here," and then ten seconds later I was all, "did I say here, cause I meant to go," and she gave me this look like, oh you poor sad creature, you are so stupid and then she gave me my chocolate chip cookie and I left. True story. So I got back to the office, put half my sub in the fridge for tomorrow, and checked on my free cookie. You know, to make sure it wasn't afraid, because it was dark inside the bag and everyone knows chocolate chip cookies are afraid of the dark. And lo and behold . . . I looked in the bag . . . and there were TWO COOKIES. TWO FREE COOKIES. TWO FREE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES. Either she thought I was super awesome or she felt sorry for me because I don't know the difference between "here" and "to go." I don't really care. If being completely stupid gets you double free cookies, then I'm going to play dumb more often.

Also, do you ever have those moments where it feels like everyone is staring at you? I totally had one of those at Subway. It was weird and I got all paranoid that I had, like, ink all over my face or my fly was down or something.

Speaking of paranoid . . . I'm dog-sitting for my aunt and uncle this week and they have two dogs. Roxy, who is the greatest dog ever created and Mocha, who is . . . special. She is completely adorable when she's like, sleeping. Or just not barking. Because the barking makes me want to rip off my ears. Last night, she barked and barked and barked while I tried to go to bed. This went on for a long, long time. Not only was it annoying, but it made me wonder if there was someone out in the backyard, waiting for me to go to sleep so they could break in and torment me and kill me. I know that's completely ridiculous, but it just proves once again that Heidi and I should never have gone to see The Strangers.