Cherry M&M's, ladies in electric purple trench coats, and arm cuff pressure.

Wow, I have really been slacking on this blog thing. NOT GOOD.

I will change it! Everyone shall be sorry! Muwahahahahah......and to start off:

My recent obsession with food that is red.

I'm not talking naturally red, although I made a killer fruit pizza with fresh strawberries for my workniks the other day. I'm talking maraschino cherry possibly FDA approved red. I'm like a bird attracted to flashy things when I see red products. Hence the cherry flavored m&m's. My review on them? Stale cherry cordials. The end. That's what they taste like. Avoid if at all possible.

Back to the maraschino cherry thing. So I bought a small jar to compliment my other obsession earlier in the month, vanilla ice cream with hot fudge. Then, I got the briliant idea how delicious those little orbs of ruby goodness would be in....rum. Soaked and mixed with sweetness and delightful alcohol. Mmmm..mmmm.. mmmm. I'm out of maraschino cherries, but oh, I can assure you, they are on MY grocery list. That's another thing, with the warmer weather, I've been drinking more. A sangria here and there. Fabulous.

Work stuff. One observation I have noticed in the burgh on my way to work in the mornings is the disturbing trend of purple trench coats I have seen in the city. Irridescent anything in my opinion is far from being professional, however electric purple?!? Perhaps Prince would be proud. Purple raincoats for purple rain...purple rain.

Purple. What a great sounding word. Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr-ple. Yep. I'll say it out loud several more times.

Work has been going very well. We got rid of a deadbeat and now I have extra work to do, hence the pressure. Not quite completely uncomfortable, but manageable. I may even get to observe a cochlear implant surgery in the next couple of weeks!

My husband is all into his sports. He won his NCAA office basketball pool. He pretty much holed himself and his son in the house this weekend to watch draft coverage. One thing I'm not too crazy about that has been happening lately? The way they go out to purposefully annoy me and then laugh when I do say something. It is now at the point of becoming disrespectful and it is a game to them to see how long it takes to get me irritated. I think once he gets home from dropping the boy off, I'm going to have a chat. Of course it will be met with arrogance and an arguement, but I'm really sick of it.

He managed to win front row tickets to the Keith Urban show at Penn State. Now, I'm in no way a country music fan. Twang ain't my thang. However....I lust after Keith Urban. In my special world, not the one with Johnny Rzeznik from the Goo Goo Dolls, but in my Keith Urban place, I imagine everyone of his songs is about me and not that freakishly tall, botox laced, wax figure of a wife aka Nicole Kidman he is married to.

I got to stare at his rear end, have excellent pictures I can swoon to at any moment, and he threw a guitar pick in my cleavage. The guitar pick that says KEITH URBAN. Yeah, baby.

I think it's the hair. I like guys with rocker looking hair. Or maybe I'm jealous their hair looks better than mine.

And I'm a sucker for coy smiles. *dreamy sigh* I love those smiles. I don't want to be degraded, I want a 'come here baby' smile.

Yep.