May has been a whirlwind month as it is every year. It is a combination
of Mommy’s Day, congratulating ourselves on another year of swapping Wedded
spit while dancing around in my Birthday suit holding glasses of sangria. What? Like you never do that. The next gift opportunity isn’t until
Christmas, a very, very, very long way away. Feel free to send me a little something
to sustain me if you wish, I can be quite the sulker if not placated with random
presents.
Combined with accepting a job with Endless Engineering, flogging those
whiny students and Sheldon’s upcoming nuptials I am slacking at this blog. Fortunately, Ms. Anonymous filled in last
week and things are settling down so I am back at it. I have a tried and true
method for keeping track of my friend’s and family’s faux pas in order to
revisit in a more ummmmm…. sober state. It’s my little book that I jot little notes
for future blogging posts. Granted it’s paisley, not black, but you get the
idea. Let’s crack that puppy open and share a few late happenings in Tunaville
shall we?
I finished the semester strong, despite more of those f*cking group
projects. Man how I hate them as a rule, but I had one particularly challenging
team with whom I was handcuffed the entire semester. I got stuck with “the
couple”. It was obvious he was there on an athletic rather than merit
scholarship. More interested in lazy days doing the nasty then working on their
share of our 100,000 page report.
EVERYTHING uploaded 10 minutes before class overwriting other people
belabored words. This included the final PowerPoint
presentation. My overly vocal complaints were met by HER “Don’t
you disrespect me.” Really, let’s talk about disrespect, it’s a noun, not a
verb girlfriend. If I was really disrespecting
you I would have called you bitch.
Peach Breakfast Shake
1 banana
1 cup orange juice
½ cup plain yogurt
1 cup frozen peaches.
Throw in the blender and whirl. Not as good as the Peach Sangria I
drank with my Sistah and Bebe last week. But I’ve been on a feeding frenzy
since my birthday bash and need to get back on the diet train.
In other news, Sheldon and the Brit’s wedding plans are moving along.
Date set, dress bought and venue selected. My work here is done I believe. I don’t remember my mom helping me with this
stuff, I just blindly swam along.
Sheldon calls it delegation. But they are focused on the oddest things.
Sheldon: Mama, why can’t we
throw rice at the wedding?
Mrs. Tuna: Because the rumor is
that birds eating will explode, some stupid PETA thing. How about bubbles?
Sheldon: The Brit and I wear
contacts, we don’t want it to get in our eyes.
Mrs. Tuna: As opposed to a giant piece of rice? Chica, I’ll just buy
your safety goggles you’ll be fine.
Sheldon’s fiancé understands our little flower so well. When explaining her nickname, he exclaimed that
she was pedantic. Pedantic? Can you use
it in a sentence? Sheldon is pedantic. I
consider myself pretty smart but there is something about the British that
makes me feel uncouth. Before you know it I will start saying things are super
cute. My IQ is dropping daily
Good week Team Tuna!
