Holy shit! We made it!
Sorry for being MIA, guys. I've been holed up in my fallout shelter (lovingly referred to as 'Michele Bachmann's Vagina' because it's dark and filled with spiderwebs from lack of use) preparing for the end of the world.
Well, don't I feel silly.
It appears the whole Mayan calendar prophecy was a sham, which makes sense. If the Mayans were that good at predicting the future they probably would have seen the Spanish coming.
Okay. Can I be honest with you guys?
I really didn't think the world was ending. I was just too busy trying to become Honey Boo Boo's mom's doppelganger by eating deep-fried turkey and shit.
This means I have no real excuse for not writing for a month, except that the holidays make me lazy. Come Thanksgiving I just want to lay on my couch in footie pajamas watching Miracle on 34th Street while sobbing into my tub of seasonal caramel popcorn. I don't have time to give a shit about the world or it's problems.
But I know I've missed a lot, and I promise to be back and better than ever after the holidays! I've got a lot of big plans for the future of I'm Not Really a Barista.
So stay tuned, my lovely little lambchops. Momma will be home soon. But first she has to go to the gym.
After I eat these Christmas cookies and watch Tori Spelling pretend she can act on ABC Family.
