If you want to get something done, you have to do it yourself

You know, Internet, when I come home from a long, hard day at work, all I want is to plop down in front of the television with a nice, warm meal. That's not too much to ask, is it? After my day of networking and shmoozing with the likes of AlBERT Gore, I came home to work on an assignment I hadn't been able to look at during the day and asked Little One what she was going to have for dinner. "Pancakes," she replied. Ahh, brinner. The awesomeness of breakfast, for dinner! I informed her I wanted in on that action after I finished my work, and she politely, as usual, obliged.

After waiting for HRH to finish whatever she was watching, I accompanied her to the kitchen to supervise her pancake making. "Don't screw it up," I jokingly told her as she warmed the skillet. Apparently, Little One thought yesterday was Opposite Day, and did EXACTLY WHAT I TOLD HER NOT TO.

Behold:



Have you ever seen a more disgusting looking pancake? I sure as hell haven't.

Then she made this face, which I believe meant she was sorry.



Here was the final product, a "yin yang" she called it, after she shoved the two broken pieces together.



And finally, with some powdered sugar, to soothe the flames now coming out of my ears.

Confirmed

I finally got my mystery ailment diagnosed out last night. I have "remnants of salmonella typhoid." Sounds delicious, no? My symptoms started nearly two years ago in Sudan, when I woke up to find my previously digested dinner on the floor. Since that fateful night, I've taken antibiotics roughly four or five times (I get violently ill roughly every six months or so), but some bacteria appears to have taken up permanent residence in my body and continues to float around like it owns the place. My doctor prescribed another short course of antibiotics to kill the remaining suckers, so here's hoping I'll be puke free from October 2009! Pray with me, Internet.

In defense of home schooling

I met up with a great friend who I hadn't seen in three years last night, and after some catching up, I went over to her house to visit with her parents. Her parents have been in Egypt for quite some time, and are moving back to America next week. After listening to endless stories about my friend's nieces, her mom, Vovo, told me this story, about her other daughter (V) and granddaughter (A), age 5.

A: Mommy, what's a lesbian?

V: Umm...it's when two people really love each other, and they're both girls.

A: Do they kiss?

V: Umm...yes, they kiss.

A: O, so me and Vovo are lesbians!

And that, Internet, is why my children will live in a bubble.

Cravings

I need food. Like, immediately. Even faster than immediately, if possible. And if it's not possible, MAKE IT POSSIBLE. Examples of things I'd like to eat/imbibe include:

• ten thousand Oreo cookies
  
• a Dr. Pepper
• pickles
• a peanut butter and Nutella sandwich
• grapes
• iced tea
• all of the above, at the same time (like a milkshake)

So, maybe I'm pregnant. OR this fasting is really taking its toll. Either way, my insides are ninja'ing their way through my stomach and I don't know if I can make it till.........

(I didn't make it)

Asking for it

My mother found out about this blog soon after I started it, and immediately my gut clenched, my palms got sweaty, and I thought, "O poor readers, imagine all the fun stories I COULD have told you." And then I realized that tapeworms lead more interesting lives than I do, and nothing I could ever write here would require password protection.

Yesterday, however, my mom informed me that she stopped visiting this site after she saw this post, presumably because happier words could never be typed again, except for maybe, "Hey Mom, I'm getting married! To a man!" So, let the games begin! If you see me walking around with a limp, black eye, or missing a patch of hair, you'll know I was doing some investigative journalism to keep you satiated. You can thank me later. Or now. With cookies.

Question

Do we need to talk about how awesome my new socks are?

Today: Size 2. Tomorrow: Size Beached Whale.

Me: How many calories are in this can of Pringles?

Little One: 900.

Me: Whoa, that's a lot.

Little One: Were you planning on eating the whole thing?

Me: Yeah. And the rest of yours.

Little One: That's disgusting.

Me: And...?

Things I did over the past three days instead of working on the thing I needed to work on

• Throw up. Twice
• Nap, watch TV, repeat.
• Stick my footses in Little One's pocket and shout, "Check your pocket!"
• Yell at the new guard for ringing the intercom three times while I was napping
• Yell at the driver for ringing the intercom, thinking he was the guard
• Curse the freezer for not spilling over with chocolate ice cream

It really is a wonder I manage to put my socks on and make it out the door every morning. And that Little One hasn't smothered me in my sleep.

Like chopsticks in the ears, but worse

Internet, my ears will never be the same again.

More Positive Than Your Average Bear and I have accounts on last.fm, and today I thought it would be a good idea to listen to the tracks he's 'favorite-d.' BIG MISTAKE. I don't know what just happened, but my ears were assaulted like never before (well, there was that one time I had to sit through Hakim's assuredly drug-induced performance at my cousin's wedding, but that's neither here nor there). One of the songs was a TECHNO REMIX OF A BRITNEY SPEARS SONG. God, give me strength.

Help me recover, Internet. If you could recommend one (or more!) song(s) right this minute, what would it (they) be? I need help, world. Help me. Help me. Help me.