Good evening, dearest reader.
I know you are anxiously awaiting a report on Saturday night’s events. The dress… the food…the entertainment….Thor’s tie…. Questions jangle, jumble and clamor in your mind, falling over each other in a battle for acknowledgment and relevancy like Nicki Minaj and Mariah Carey on the set of American Idol. I regret to say that you must wait a little longer, my little chickens, because I don’t have the pictures yet. Yes, there was a photographer, and yes, he was truly amazed at my knowledge of how to stand when getting my picture taken. “A pro”, he said. Actually, I think he may have said “an OLD pro,” but I’m choosing to suppress that part.
Anyhow, The Boy leaves to spend part of Christmas break with his dad on Sunday. After I drop him off, I will be heading to Thor’s to take my ginormous FDNY exam. He doesn’t know yet. So, in the interest of open communication, a private note to Thor: Thor, darling – on Sunday I’m coming over to take my test. All I need are: a Coke Zero, a big glass of ice, the blue Snuggie, and your undying devotion. You may wish to hide the cat in case it doesn't go so well.