Ok, wtf. I'm at Uno's and normally they are so on the ball. But apparently if you come in before 5 it's just to drown your sorrows in beer and wine? Cause I have a glass of wine and NO ONE has checked on me in 20 minutes. I'm all, hey, I've got a doctor's appointment to get to, y'all wanna feed me maybe?
And I didn't even read this whole article that Emily sent me cause I heard it on the news this morning and it's fucking depressing. Just MORE INCENTIVE to get the fuck out.
Speaking of which, I went to check out my LSAT test center cause I have no sense of direction and I'm the sort of person who needs to stake out the room beforehand. (Yes, I pass it nearly every day on my way to booze it up, but bite me.) Apparently as soon as you enter the building it's anal-patrol time security-wise, so no worries about not being able to find the room. But they were all, "Hey, were you the one whose husband called about being taken to see the room?" In retrospect I should have been ALL INTO THAT. "Maybe, or no, but can I see the room?" I know I could have, but who cares really. I am amused that someone is that...um...troubled?...that her husband has to call about getting her "in" to see "the room." Word, woman.
Dude, it's like they're afraid of me here. ASK ME IF I WANT PIZZA, BITCHES. I TRIPLE DOG DARE YOU.
Anyhoo. GUESS WHAT! GUESS who I'm gonna go see! No, you'll never guess. It's too awesome. Totally. Well, Alex and I (and my hubby) are going to go see (assuming the ticketmaster site doesn't screw up or hate us, you never know)...oh yes, wait for it...goodness me, ROBIN FUCKING WILLIAMS, ohmygodyes. It's like the time I was dirt-ass poor in Austin and then Paul Simon came to town. It's not "Can I afford it?" it's "What can I sell besides my body? Unless I have to and then that might actually be an option?" Anyone who wants in on that action should say so by Saturday, baby.