Little Black Book

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!