March 11th, 2005



I think I figured out what my problem is. My brain is not the boss of me. My tongue, my TONGUE, is the boss of me. Earlier this week it was a gigantic large second helping of chicken-mushroom-artichoke casserole. Yesterday it was chocolate cake. Today? Popcorn and vanilla creams. I think I need a middle manager. Hee!

Anders has been gone for 2 days to Dublin, Ireland on a business trip, and every time I tell someone where he is, I say Dublin in an Irish accent. What's up with that? I blame The Commitments. He gets home tonight. I told him to bring me something cool and Irish-y, and I'm taking bets that he interprets that to mean whiskey.

Things I Wish People Would Get the Urge to Send Me Lots of Right Now: Reese's Fast Break Bars, Reese's Fast Break Bars, Reese's Fast Break Bars. (there goes my TONGUE again) (mmmm...Reese's Fast Break Bars)
  • Current Music
    Miranda Sex Garden—Ah Look Upon These Eyes