Are we there yet?

Friday, that is. It's barely hump day (take that literally, baby) and my weekend is already full. That, and my week has been a cold, ugly mess. It's lots of work and almost no play. Not at all fun like the work-slash ski trip I had last week. No packed powder freestyle jumps or half pipe action anywhere in sight.

Thus far people have yelled over each other to yell at me, had a fashion disaster for a work ensemble, and slept on the couch. I missed cocktails with friends, and got blown off by Jacques who is now busy with the big chested, snooty hairstylist I originally took him to see. Thanks for not penciling in any time to hang with your old pal RC. Note to self: Jacques is on the "What a Prick" list until next week. Scratch that. All men I know are on that list until further notice.

I'd like to stop blogging for the night and listen to man-hater Alanis Morrisette really, super loud. Last, thanks to Jeckyl for inspiring my quote of the week, "Men phuck up everything, eventually."

BTW, did you know I was the last of my female counterparts to discover the Return to Tiffany bracelets? They're way fabulous and completely affordable. Why the hell am I falling out of vogue? I suppose working in Boulder automatically strips you of any "Fashionista" status. I may as well don some dirty birkenstocks and dreadlock my over-processed tresses.