You're Like A Dyson - Guaranteed To Suck For A Lifetime

(The title of today's post is my favorite new insult, one my brain generated last night while I was watching Travis get his ass whooped in Burnout.)

Would you believe I'm getting sick AGAIN?! I don't know if it's just going dormant for a while and then returning on me, or if I keep catching every strain of The Crud that pops up, but this is the third time I've fell victim to said Crud since Thanksgiving! Come ON!!!

Hey, I joined yet another sock club, bringing my grand total to two sock clubs and a fiber club. Look, I can't help it, okay? I'm weak. And The Loopy Ewe is just so awesome. (And I have all that commuting to do now.)

Sometimes little things give me such a thrill - like when I found the ABSOLUTE PERFECT gift bag for Susan's Jaywalkers. Check this out.


Speaking of thrills - food. We went to our reception location on Wednesday night for a tasting. Well, they call it a tasting. I call it a full-contact buffet. We shared a table with this great couple who was as boisterous as we were (I'm sure there's a reason we were seated together) and it was the groom-to-be's birthday. He kept going on about how awesome it was to get a free dinner. I didn't want to pee in his Cheerios by saying it out loud, but I couldn't help but think, "Man oh MAN is this not a free meal. You're payin' for it, buddy. This is gourmet in installments." Which is why I had no guilt whatsoever about eating three plates of food. (Small plates. But still. And only of the meatless stuff and seafood - I made Travis try all the meat to see what was good, but obviously that wasn't going to be a sacrifice I'd be willing to make.)

So yeah, here's the spread we saw when we came in.


It was like heaven for me. And then? They brought out four - yes, FOUR - slices of cake for dessert. True, small tasting slices so we could get a feel for the options - but dude, every meal should end with four slices of cake.

And this was probably my favorite part. Instead of writing our names on a placecard or something, they put these at our seats:


Is that great? And only when I put them together for the photo did I notice that they were a bride and a groom. She even has on pearls! Mr. and Mrs. Strawberry are currently rolled up in foil in our fridge. I couldn't stuff them down that night, and I didn't dare leave them behind. But they're so cute, I don't think I'll be able to eat them.

Kamikaze subject change: You know that "Six Weird Things About Me" meme that's all over the place? I won't do it, but I've been seeing my own weird stuff popping up on other peoples' answers, and I never thought I was all that weird. So now I guess I have to confess. Here's one. I, like many other people, talk to my pets. Well, mostly Rooster. But not in a "Hi there, kitty-kitty" kind of way, but in a totally two-sided conversational way. For example, here's a verbatim transcript of a conversation from last night:

Rooster (jumping up on couch with me): M-OWW.
Me: Oh, about 30 minutes or so.
Rooster. Merrr-ow. (plopping down and looking vaguely annoyed)
Me: Okay, well I'll let you know.
Travis (without the slightest edge of "bitch, you crazy" in his voice): What'd he say?
Me: He wants to know when I'm going to bed........you know, thank you for never accusing me of being a nut job.
Travis (shrugging): It's a respect thing.

I'm probably mild to moderate insane - but for the record, I'll state that I don't really know for sure what my cat is saying. I just figure it's polite to respond.