09.18.06 :: 10:15 am


Ryan turned 34 yesterday and I bought him a plaid button down and a gigunda coffee table book on ancient maps to celebrate.
Then I made him cook me dinner because that�s how I roll, motherfuckers.

I�m celebrating my birthday this Friday by enduring yet another reception meeting and I swear to God I can�t wait until the day I no longer have to speak to that woman, I am so sick to death of her.
For no reason in particular, other than I know her deal at this stage of the game, I know when I�m getting the bait-n-switch or when she�s trying to squeeze more money out of my mother.
I don�t appreciate it, and I�m done.
And if she thinks I�m paying $750 for her �day of� coordinator services, she�s fucking delusional.

Anyway.
Nothing spells birthday celebration better than back to back doctor�s appointments. One every day this week.
I�m such a masochist, I�m surprised I�m not crazy into degrading, submissive sex or whatever.

TMI?
You�re soaking in it.

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