While I may be young and vibrant old and married, I still like to party every now and then. And I feel a rager coming on, a raging pity party that is. And do I know how to throw one of those!

PARTY ON WAYNE, PARTY ON GARTH!

Today I woke up showered and went to babysit. Seeing as how today was the last day I would see the kids for the summer I brought my dog and stopped by my old friend dunkin' donuts and picked up a dozen of America's finest glazed and powdered fried treats. While babysitting I watched hours of the Disney channel, had an awkward conversation about how to use a tampon with the 12 year girl I babysit and played bingo.

After babysitting I came home and indulged in two hours of The Real Housewives of New Jersey that I had saved on my DVR, started watching an episode of Kate plus 8 and decided I was sick of that show and told my DVR to stop recording it. Watched some reruns of Gilmore Girls and then went to Starbucks to shoot the shit with my brother and get a free latte, not to mention I got to use the reusable coffee sleeve that my DC girl sent me in the mail. =)

I was planning on having coffee with my dad so I could ask him for some advice on what to do with my life. For example: Should I go to Grad school and try to learn something that would make my sad self more marketable to potential employers? Should the hubs and I try to buy a cheap crap shack of a house or keep throwing money at a rental? Should We stay in FL so the hubs can finish school or move because I'm going crazy running into my high school classmates at Target and working and a shitty part time job that makes me want to off myself? But he being the loving father he is blew my ass off. What the hell?! I can't even get my own dad to advise me. So like any other girl, I left Starbucks after being stood up by my own dad, cried the whole way to Wal Mart, got what I needed and a few beauty products I didn't. Sang some Emo Mandy Moore on the way home from Wal Mart and watched some more TV.

So here I sit writing this mediocre (at best) blog, contemplating life and thinking maybe I should just stay home tomorrow, polish off my box of raisin bran cereal and read a few Janet Evanovich books while I cry about how I will never be a bad ass bounty hunter, banging my partners in crime in the back seat of a car in the parking lot of a funeral home.

So now that I'm all good and feeling pathetic I will let you leave this party and get back to your regularly scheduled life.