Varied and Sundry- Superbowl Edition?

• Last night, we went to the Darkroom and I debuted my fancy new Joan Holloway dress with my glorious red shoes. If you think you're sick of hearing about it now, just wait until you see me wearing it every time you see me, because wearing it as a uniform is the only way I can justify it's purpose.
• Speaking of uniforms, some unfortunate looking creature wearing a lavender paisley ascot comes up to us last night (for the third time) and asks me if I am an airline stewardess. Mind you, dude was wearing a fucking lavender paisley ascot. Who is he to judge my fabulous dress.
• I am going to my first Superbowl Party ever today. I know nothing of football. I will be the girl bringing the brie and petits toasts.
• Mr. Catface is being a nudge. He wants to make sweet love to my laptop.
• We talked last night about crying in bars. I have an excessive amount of pride and don't cry much, and have thus only cried in public once. It was in the bathroom at Orzo's, and it was my lady time, and the boy I was with (whom I was retardedly smitten with at the time, despite his conservative leanings, possibly because he resembled True Love Elvis Costello and liked horror movies) started making fun of anti-war protesters. Which, you know, I was. I got really upset because I felt like everything I liked about myself and was proud of was something he thought he'd have to overlook. I don't know, but I totally lost it. It was worlds of embarassing- and it was a bajillion years ago, but I still get redfaced thinking about it.
• I have no idea about what I am going to wear today. I really have to do my laundry. I do not want to go to work. I want to stay in bed with Mr. Catface and eat clementines.