A Coffee, A Compromise, A Contest.

Why? Because I love alliteration.

[An aside: does anyone but me hear “Why?” and automatically think “Because we like you”? As in, “M I C, see you real soon … K E Y, why? Because we like you!” I swear that’s what I was thinking just as I was typing. The ad council and all those “just get outside already” advocates may have got it right, I think ... after school television really can affect young minds far into adulthood. It’s certainly left its mark on this once-wanna-be mouseketeer, in any event…]

The coffee, as one may have already begun to suspect given the rather haphazard organization of the post thus far, is a lovely grande triple shot, which is fueling me through another fun filled day at the office (blogging again at work, magda? Ahem?). This week has been nothing short of frantic. I think someone upstairs, in the ethereal marble and mahogany palace hovering somewhere above our communist-grade offices has gotten a handle on just how unproductive this company is most of the time. They’re tightening the screws and spurring production. In a way, it works out; working hard when everyone’s at it is much more fulfilling than charging on alone while the slackers screw around on facebook. There’s little worse that fearing you’re the only one left who actually cares.

I have got to jet out right on time tonight, however, as an aunt and uncle are in town and I’m meeting up with them for dinner. This is my dad’s brother and his wife, so naturally I’m taking them to enjoy the largest beer collection in the world (here’s to you, dad!). Were it my mom’s sister, I’d likely book somewhere civilized where we could have a nice chardonnay on the terrace, irrespective of what her husband would prefer. I can’t really justify my bright line distinction. But if it’s dad’s family, it’ll be beer. Cheers to that.

The thing of it is, I’m not bringing J. He wasn’t exactly invited—they said they wanted to take me to dinner—but he wasn’t exactly disinvited—I never asked if he could come along. It wasn’t really conscious; it just didn’t even cross my mind.

I think, at the bottom of it, I’m still just not sure.

It’s not than I’m embarrassed, and it’s not that I doubt my love—I’m just not sure-sure, not positive I want to bring him out to meet my extended family, not sure I want to risk them meeting him and then it not working out. I see this aunt and uncle so rarely, and it seems every time I’m with another soon-to-be-shed boyfriend. No good.

We compromised, J and I. I’ll get some catch-up time with them during dinner, and he can come for an introductory beer at the night’s end. No one is shunned, but no one feels smothered; a perfect balance.

So that’s the coffee and the compromise. That must mean it’s time for the contest!

Earlier this week, I was the lucky winner of Pay it Forward over at Penelope’s place.

The rules of the game are simple. Leave a comment on this post, and you’re entered. At the end of the week, a secret magic randomizer will choose one lucky blogger to receive a special surprise from yours truly. It’ll be good. Mouseketeer’s promise, girl scout’s honor, etc.

The only catch is that if you win, you must pay it forward on your blog. Share the love, y’all. You, too, can be the happiness fairy.

I’ve pinned this comic over my computer. The pig is cracking me up.

Somebody please, take away my starbucks card. But leave a comment first—the contest closes at 11.59p Friday, May 2.