In Which Mike Gets A Little Bit Racist

Yesterday, as I was having people come in and out of my apartment, so that they could beautify themselves with jewelry, I had an epiphany (are y'all impressed with how many epiphanies I have in my life?).
I have been living under the assumption that because of parking and the size of my apartment, I could never host a party of any kind. Despite this assumption, deep down inside, I think there is a fantastic party hostess waiting to emerge. Seriously. I feel like it's one of my spiritual talents that I'm supposed to discover as an adult. Hosting a good party.

Oh man, my friend Amy back in Tyler, she can host a good party. She usually sets up a "photo booth" (the concept is becoming quite popular at weddings, if Facebook stalking my friends' photo albums has taught me anything) and enjoyment typically ensues.


(that's Natalie by the by, or Nat. She's my lifelong friend. Really! We're going on 27 years!)

Also, it doesn't hurt that Amy went to culinary school and didn't drop out like some people who are writing this blog. She's fantastic.

Anyways, I want to throw good parties. Like Amy's. Except weirder because she's more normal than I am.
Back to my original point, after my jewelry party yesterday, I thought to myself "Hey! Since we re-arranged this place and really opened up the space, I COULD throw a party! And if I DID throw a party, it would still be quieter than the angry lesbians stomping around upstairs!" (It's a true story. I could probably have 20 people over and we'd still be more quiet than them.) 
And no one complained about parking yesterday, so I think that was just my brain holding me back from achieving one of my heart's greatest desires.

The bottom line of all of this is, St. Patrick's Day is on a Saturday this year, which is prime party day and it's my favorite holiday (you'd think it was Christmas, but no, the Irish one wins. You're probably thinking "How sad for a Mormon's favorite holiday to be a drinking one"), so I will probably be throwing one awesome shindig. Or should I say, shinJIG.
Ha ha! haaaaa....

In other news, as I was sitting in sacrament meeting earlier, I looked down and realized that the tank top I was wearing under my shirt was a different white than the shirt it was under. Bleach much, Sandi? Obviously not.

Alright well, I got a date with an iTunes gift card, courtesy of some of the moneys I got for Christmas ("just send money, how about tens and twenties?").

Please be telling me what is the one song that your heart would desire to download at this moment, and also what is something that you LOVE to do or LOVE about parties. I need ideas.
I'm new at this. Remember? If you don't remember, then please go back and read this post again because you weren't paying attention.

I really can't think of a better way to send you off into a new year than with ABBA. Oh man, how awesome would life be if it was an ABBA song? You know, one of the ones BEFORE they all started divorcing each other (we're talking "Waterloo" here, not... "The Winner Takes It All").

(how fantastic is Frida's pink lipstick?)

(disclaimer: my husband is not racist. You should not take him seriously. He just has a sick sense of humor. It's one of the reasons we're perfect for each other.)

Me: I just did Zumba! (got it for the Wii, suckas!)
Mike: And?
Me: I'm very white.
Mike: Yes we are. But we ARE the master race.
Me: (long pause that continues to this day)