11.05.01
It is now time for everyone to commence the butt dance.
You know, that ridiculous butt-waggle that accompanies a victory, much like the Church Lady's "superior dance," only less superior and more woo-hoo.
(Silly arm gyrations are optional.)
You may be asking yourself why you are now flailing around the room with your posterior held high, and lemme give you a good reason:
Just today, after a week and a half of waiting, I received my midterm grade for that ridiculous test over which I was all bent out of shape.
Who's your daddy?
I couldn't tell you for sure, unless I have actually met him and bothered to memorize that tidbit of information.
However, I can tell you who is currently teacher's pet in a certain Western Art & Culture Before 1400 class.
Perhaps all of those other tedious art history classes that I've taken before are finally paying off.
And, no. I am not dancing around my apartment chanting, "Go Pixie, it's your birthday! Go Pixie, it's your birthday!*"
*That would be for several obvious reasons.
One, because I already did that earlier, and I do have a life outside of parading around my apartment in my pajamas, as difficult as that may be to believe, a life which doesn't make a lot of room for vainglorious displays of excess.
Two, whilst engaged in my silly dancing and chanting, I opted to use my real name.
And three, my birthday is in July. You have slightly more than 8 months left in which to shop for my presents, although Christmas isn't that far off.
