Yay, yay, yay, it’s Friday! The Friday before Thanksgiving! I love this weekend already and it just started. Tonight my mom and I are going to have an epic Doctor Who marathon, tomorrow is Sasha Feroce’s monthly dinner party, Sunday morning the kids and I are loading up with my parents and driving to Austin to spend a few days with my little brother and his awesome wife, and when we get back Tuesday I’ll be headed straight to the airport to pick up my Ogre for the holiday.
I’m so happy right now I could sing.
Speaking of Painful Things
Bluebell has been very, very naughty this year.
Last night I was striding purposefully through the grocery store, determined to only buy milk, cereal, and butter, when I was derailed by that top carton there. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I read the description.
Sugar cookie flavored ice cream with Chocolate Chip, Snickerdoodle and Sugar cookies, Candy-cane shaped sprinkles and a green icing swirl.
What the french? I thought to myself. That sounds incredibly confusing. I could not figure out how that description was even possible, much less how it would play out on the human palate.
And then, using Sasha Feroce’s latest pregnancy craving for anything peppermint as an excuse (yeah I know there’s no peppermint in there. It was a flimsy excuse) I bought it.
It Is So Delicious
and so evil. I can’t even describe it. Sasha Feroce and I immediately gobbled down
totally reasonably-sized massive cups of ice cream upon my return to the store. And then we talked about it for the rest of the night.
I went to bed thinking of that ice cream. I woke up thinking of that ice cream. The first thing Sasha Feroce and I said to each other this morning was “Man, that ice cream was really good.”
I’m in so much trouble.
In Case You Haven’t Noticed
I have a pretty serious sweet tooth. At any given time, the size of my bottom directly corresponds to how much (or little) control I have over said sweet tooth.
This is hard enough during the holiday season, when I have to combat my excessive fondness for anything even tangentially pumpkin-flavored and when everyone’s spirits are high and their candy-bowls overflow with Holiday M&M;’s and those cheerfully wrapped, irresistible Hershey’s kisses.
Why, Bluebell, why would you go and make it that much harder? At this rate, I’m going to be moving to the Land of Sun just when the only thing that fits me are ponchos and Snuggies.
how much of a fashion faux pas would it be to wear a Snuggie in public during the month of January? On a scale of 1-10, with 1 being “no more embarrassing than the fact that you only wear yoga pants in January anyway” and 10 being “almost as bad as those purple velour leggings you wore for two solid years in your ill-fated adolescence before trading up to JNCOS”, how bad would it be?
Yeah, I Wore JNCOS
And actually I loved them so much that I wore them every single day for an entire year. I also only dated boys who wore them too.
There is neither an explanation or a defense for that.
God Bless My Poor Parents
|I assure you that they were not this happy during my adolescence|
who had to put up with all my “fashion” phases. I can still remember my mother, trying ever so subtly to dissuade me from dressing like a complete imbecile while still allowing me the freedom to dress like a complete imbecile.
She deserves an award.
|I think that tights and leggings should be sold with warning labels.|
WARNING: THESE ARE NOT PANTS.
What’s the worst fashion mistake you’ve ever made?
I hope you all have as delightful of a weekend as I plan on having! Go and see Jen
for more quick takes!