Beautiful World

It is absolutely beautiful outside. The sun is shining, it's warm, and there's a slight breeze coming in off the lake. I can see this all from my tiny window in my office.

What is it with me and beautiful Spring days? I always seem to miss them. I did, however, get to enjoy a taste of the niceness this morning as I strolled to work. It was warm, smelled vaguely of flowers and gasoline, and no one was out and about yet. I felt like crap, but it was still a pretty morning.

I am still pretty sick, though I look much better than I did yesterday. I am drugged up on Tylenol Cold, but I have a nagging cough and my throat still hurts--and my awesome headache from yesterday is deciding to make a repeat performance. I am currently drinking warm Sprite from a red plastic cup that makes me wish that I was drinking Jameson and Coke instead. Red plastic cups make me think of parties, which makes me kind of sad because I am at work and in no mood to party.

I am, however, in the mood to compose crappy Spring poetry. Here we go:

The sun shines

Outside my window

The wind blows

Caressing the bare branches

On which

New buds just beginning to form

The grass looks somewhat lush and green

And the daffodils are almost ready to bloom

I sit here

Listening to Vampire Weekend

Sipping warm Sprite from a red plastic cup

Lamenting that I am sick and that today is not my day off

Dream a Dream

First off, Merry Christmas!!!!

And now, I'd like to debut my own version of the classic Christmas song of gold-digging women everywhere, "Twelve Days of Christmas". Enjoy.

On the first day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey.

On the second day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A pair of Christian Louboutins...

On the third day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A day with Lady Gaga.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A pair of black sequined leggings.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A rather fetching statue of Lief Erikson.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:A gift card to iTunes.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

An Aston Martin Vantage.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A book of Shakespearean poetry.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A box of oh-so-delish peppermint bark.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A bottle of Miss Dior Cherie.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A ticket to Manhattan.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my occasional hook-up gave to me:

A fantasy bra from Victoria's Secret.