I had this here Duran Duran (or D2, as me and my oh-so-clever friends called them) hanging in my bedroom in "the day." Not to mention all the other Teen Beat pinups of the above "hot" guys. Um, er, okay. What was my fascination with very pretty boys? (And by pretty I don't mean it in a good way.) The 80's were embarassing. Truly.
You know what I did over lunch today? Do ya? Do ya? First I went to the big, scary Brookings Police Dept and then to the Court House. Oh, and I got lost finding both buildings even though this town you can practically see from one end to the other no prob.
Here's the dealio Emilio: in classic Danielle form I waited until the absolute, no contest, without a shadow of a doubt last moment to pay my effin' $90.00 speeding ticket. I could say it was a small act of protest against the Brookings Police who I swear to Gawd are tailing me, just waiting for me to eff-up driving. Since I got the new car I've not had one speeding ticket between Brookings and Sioux Falls, thanks to the genius invention: Cruise Control. I think I got five speeding tickets, maybe more, since I moved out here on that jaunt. Instead, they bust me speeding in Brookings where using my cruise is virtually impossible. I was going 52 in a 30 and they nabbed me. I got all girly on his ass and made my best fake-cry face and told him all about my divorce and how expensive it is and could he please, purty please, push my fine date out. He did, almost two months, actually. Not good enough for me though so I blow it off. Totally. Then I get this nasty, threatening letter in the mail saying I must, I must, I simply must pay the ticket in 28 days or else. I blew that off too. Until today. I sucked it up and paid the mutha, brutha, but not with joy in my heart. But, I did get to meet this gnarly babe at the Police Dept window. Let me describe: picture a woman whose age is undetermined because 1) her hair is so fried it actually looks like cotton, 2) her skin is darker than that ugly Coach belt I adored in 1996, 3) blue eyeshadow in a smelly (you know what I'm talking about) blue shade, 4) a man voice. Distracting. She had to explain the directions to the courthouse three times because all I could do is stare.
Here's what I wonder (and lord help me that this doesn't happen to me) do some people hit their peak at a certain time in their lives. Like for this cop-admin-woman it would've been, say 1979, and then their fashion freezes, on the spot? A real cartoon moment. They just keep Aqua-netting and curling and wiping the Maybellene all over their pusses? Why doesn't someone grab them and shake them, like they do in old movies, saying something like this: "Come on Woman! Snap out of it!" and then maybe slap them too, real hard-like. Someone should.
The many uses of my soon-to-be discarded boxes of business cards: 1) clean that yucky lint from under my stunningly beautiful finger nails, 2) pick food bits out of my teeth after lunch (you know you do it too, don't deny), 3) clean the lint/food crumbs/eraser shavings from between the keys on my two computer keyboards, 4) place firmly between thumb and forefinger and flick your co-workers, 5) construct a house of cards.
Irritant of the day: some who-ha nominated me to be in charge of the money for the social committee for last month, this month and part of next sooooo of course, I have zero interest in actually doing any real work. I think it's lame that I couldn't protest against this unwanted appointment. Yet, someone else on the committee bought coffee and came shuffling up to me today, right as I got in, demanding her measly $20. Um, er, I just got in, see my coat is still on? Settle down already, you'll get your green lady, just let me be. BTW, I still have not paid her (hee-hee).
Fun Fact of the Day: Had I not paid that ticket today, there would've been a warrant out for my arrest and they would've suspended my license. Let that be a lesson to you kids. I could've been all Britney, driving without my license. But once you pay, they reinstate. Ew, scary.
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