You may have noticed.
We have a love-hate relationship. Kind of like my relationship with Facebook.
It's not them; it's me.
But at work I came across something adorable that made me sigh out loud like a pansy 8th grader during the final scene of High School Musical 2. (Please read this next sentence as though it is dripping with sarcasm) And I know how you love when I share with you all about my work.
I wasn't going to blog, but this might help out the gents, and the gents know they need all the advice they can get (here's some more advice: get off the girly blog and go catch a football or a delicious bass or something).
This evening as I was getting ready to close up the shop, a regal-sounding man called in requesting a 3-rose wrap-bouquet. Light pink. Because he called ahead (<------do that), I was able to put some extra time and love into the pretty-lil'-thang (<------I refer to flowers as though they are my girlfriends).
The suited man rode up to the store on his bike 20 minutes later. He had just gotten off a long day at work and dropped by to pick up some flowers for his woman waiting at home. Friendly and happy and complimentary, he held his bouquet with care. I asked him whether it would be difficult to ride his bike home while holding the flowers, but he smiled and assured me that it was amazing what he could do with just one hand when he needed to.
I watched in awe as he walked outside, buckled his helmet into place, tucked his bouquet into one arm, and rode off into the sunset.
Middle aged. Suited. On a bike. Carrying roses.
I submit this to be better than Liam Hemsworth.
And since I'm already blogging . . .
I voted! (and I read a Usage Dictionary before bed?)
From this experience, I correctly learned how to incorrectly vote.
Even though I thought I'd rather give blood than go vote (for some reason I've always associated the two--lines and stickers maybe),
I fully intended to read up on the candidates before casting my ballot.
Then I fell asleep. And the next thing I knew, my politically-inclined brother was dragging me to the polls. I really didn't have a say in the matter. He registered me already, and it would be a waste of a project to leave me at home. I've pathetically enough put no effort into this.
So I voted.
- I voted for one candidate based on the fact that his opponent had a really annoying fan-base on a street corner on my way over, and I just couldn't select that guy.
- I voted for another based on my annoyance with his opponent's cheesy campaign slogan.
- I voted for one based on the fact that his face hadn't been plastered, as big as my dog, on every street corner.
- Another got my vote because I'm sick of all the haters obsessing over getting rid of him (Hating on haters).
- I voted for one man because his name was Larry.
- And the final guy received my vote because I hadn't received half a dozen machine-automated phone-calls asking for my support for him.
Basically I'm just anti-advertisement or something.
But then after I had voted, I actually went and read up on everyone and realized that my method probably could use some revising.
Whatever. It's only the Primarys.
Don't be like me when you fulfill your civic duties and stuff.
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