It's Friday afternoon and I'm stuck at work for the next hour-and-a-half, so I'm doing what any girl would do -- stealing from the fabulous Miss Drea.

Maybe I should actually start writing that novel I've been putting off for the past six years. Start planning my wedding. Note to self -- buy a wedding planning book and call the Hard Rock Hotel ASAP.

I love the smell of Boss by Hugo Boss even though it reminds me of my dickbag ex. I also love the smell inside Barnes and Noble and am currently trying to figure out a way to replicate it in my home. So far, I have a zero percent success rate.

People would say that I’m incredibly perky. Imagine Cass Van Rye toned down like, 80%. That's me.

I don’t understand why Ann Coulter, Rush Limbaugh and Michael Savage aren't held to the same standards as Don Imus. I mean, they're all hate-mongers.

When I wake up in the morning I know Ron Livingston won't be waiting for me with a grande decaf, skinny vanilla latte...but that doesn't mean that I stop hoping for it.

I lost the guitar pick Art Alexakis gave me when I moved from Florida to PA. I'm still kinda bummed about that.

Life is full of great music, movies, food, drink, places and people. And I want to experience as much of it as I possibly can.

My past has been both incredibly sheltered and a wonderful learning experience.

I get annoyed when I'm suckered into arguing about politics or religion.

Parties need at least one Justin Timberlake track, one Earth, Wind and Fire Track and one classic rock anthem like Don't Stop Believin' by Journey to make a memorable night.

I wish to find a sweet bargain at the mall tonight. Hopefully in the shape of a cute new summer dress.

Dogs are ridiculously cute. Especially if they happen to be Boston Terriers like Smashy or Jack Russell mixes like Phoebe.

Cats need to be more like Binx with big personalities and a penchant for playing in the sink.

Tomorrow is Avery's first birthday. I can't believe she's one already.

I have low tolerance for needles. Seriously. I immediately revert into weepy, terrified toddler when confronted with the prospect of an innoculation.

I’m totally terrified of never owning my own home one day. I know, I know. Totally stupid fear, but I really want my own house someday.

I wonder why studios keep paying those two buttholes to keep churning out crap like Disaster Movie and Meet The Spartans.

Never in my life have I gone streaking in the quad.

High school was nothing like the picture John Hughes painted.

When I’m nervous, I jabber like a complete idiot.

One time at a family gathering my sister and I passed a laptop back and forth to convey snarky messages without getting in trouble.

Take my advice and learn to accept what you have. Then learn to love it. If you hate everything, you're only hurting yourself (I'm keeping Drea's answer here because it's awesome and great advice)

Making my bed is a rarity but I'll probably make more of an effort when I get a matching comforter cover.

I'm almost always singing something in my head. Right now, it's Danny Elfman's Batman score.

I’m addicted to Lost, my Google Reader, Coke Zero/Diet Coke and Wawa.

I want a decent job and a cute little house in Los Angeles. Oh and the Lucky Medium Hobo bag in brown...or at least, a pretty good knock-off.

It's Friday. It's hot. I'm tired. Give this girl a cocktail ASAP.