Home Sick

I'm home sick today and bored out of my mind. What is UP with daytime television? Is Rock Of Love really as good as it gets? Oh the shame!

I got in and out of both the doctor's office and the pharmacy relatively quickly this morning, which was a nice change. I came prepared this time, without an energetic toddler in tow and with a book to keep me occupied. Of course, of course!, the one time that I wouldn't have minded a longer wait I am in and out, just like that. OF COURSE.


Currently I am reading Get Your Own Damn Beer, I'm Watching the Game!, and much much MUCH to my (and D's!) surprise I am digging football. I've never bothered to really watch it before, never tried to fully understand the principles and rules behind it. 34 pages in and I am fascinated. I'm hooked! I can't wait for a game to come on so I can put my knowledge to the test. Football is more than a bunch of guys in tights and helmets running around, slapping each other's butts and grunting. Who knew? D is elated.


Ethan is speaking in friggin' paragraphs now, he's totally writing novels. Last night while we were reading a bedtime story he pointed to a sheep and said, Look, there is a sheep! plain as flippin' day. He also likes to say Come on, come on, hurry, hurry, let's go Mommy! He has also learned how to say marshmallow, but only because we introduced him to marshmallow fluff. What a mistake that was. His dining requests these days are simple: cheetos and marshmallow fluff, please. Oh, with a sippy full of chocolate milk if it's not too much trouble, kind mother-o-mine!


Sara L. wrote a blog entry about motivation. It got me thinking about what motivates me to work out the consistent 5 or 6 days a week that I do. I guess I'm to the point now where I know I'll feel worse if I don't work out. Some days I'd rather eat a dog turd than do interval training, but then what? Then I end up feeling like a lazy, tired slob, and I always regret not doing it. And I never regret pushing myself to JUST DO IT. Skwigg wrote a post awhile back about how exercises is just a regular part of her day. There is no debate, no will I or won't I?, no to work out or not to work out? There is no question, it's just a part of her day, as regular as brushing her teeth. The same goes for me. My husband and I have worked out a schedule that assumes I will work out 6 days each week. He knows that on Tuesdays and Fridays I'll lift weights, and on most other days I will do cardio. He's great about watching E while I do this. He sees that working out makes me happy, it's my stress relief. I get cranky if I don't get to work out. And we don't want Sara to be cranky! (Heh.)

Frankly I don't see how or why anyone would NOT want to work out. Why not make time to take care of your body, to push yourself, to build strong muscles and protect your bones and add years to your life? It doesn't even have to be interval training, or heavy weightlifting (though I HIGHLY encourage heavy weightlifting, I could go on and on and on, but that's a whole other post)... it can be a simple 30 minute walk, or even 3 ten minute walks throughout the day. It could be running up and down the stairs for 10 minutes at your office during lunchtime, or yoga in the evenings. The bottom line is that it feels great to move your body, to set a goal and reach it. Improved body composition is a bonus. The high that I get from HIIT cardio and the muscle pump and rush of endorphins that I get from weights are enough to keep me going. You use it or you lose it, it's true. And you're not getting any younger! (Gasp!)



Today is our 2-year wedding anniversary. 2 years! We've been together since June 2003. Bought a car and moved in together at the end of 2003. Got engaged near the end of 2004. Married in September 2005. Had Ethan in December 2005 (yes, I was a most radiant bridezilla at 6 1/2 months pregnant, every little girl's dream). (My wedding dress was purple.) (Should have worn a stark-white dress, muahaha, hahaha, hahahaHA!) (Ahem.) It's been a bumpy ride, these last 4 1/2 years, with a whole lotta ups and downs. But that's to be expected, I think. Adjusting to marriage and a child and moving to Louisiana has taken it's toll, but it has also brought us closer together than ever before. Happy Anniversary, baby! We're quite the team. Please put your dishes IN THE DISHWASHER. I love you!


Last night we went and saw Superbad. It was super awesome. I'm not kidding... it's been a long time since I've seen a movie that didn't suck at least a little bit. A loooooooooooooooong time. I'll even declare that it was pure comedic genius. Two mordantly conceited thumbs up. (What the frick does that mean, anyway?)


I'm finally feeling like myself again with nutrition and exercise. I had a bit of a pity party carbfest on Wednesday night and all day Thursday, and Friday I slapped myself hard across the face and vowed to GET WITH IT already. It feels good to be back on track and kicking ass once again.

This coming week will be the last week in my 4 weeks of Muscle Max (say that five times fast). I'll then move on to 4 weeks of Leaner Legs and CTX Upper Body. Leaner Legs is especially hard and painful, so naturally I'm really looking forward to it. It's more moderate weight and higher-rep than Muscle Max, and not a second is wasted as you go from squats immediately into deadlifts followed by calf raises and then to lunges... you get the idea. Active recovery, hahaha, minus the recovery part. It's rad.

As for food I'm still doing Precision Nutrition, but I had gotten to the point where I was being super clean and strict all week, which naturally led to a 10% meal of massive and frightening proportions on the weekend. I'm getting away from that and focusing on following the program as written: 90% compliance, or 4 cheat meals per week. Cheat 1 was last night, when I had 1 1/2 buttered rolls with my salad at dinner. I also probably had too much diet soda, but come on, it's diet soda. Cheat 2 will be on Tuesday, when we celebrate a birthday at work with carrot cake (my fave-o!). I'm feeling good and am laying off the booze, because I'm finally admitting to myself that I am incapable of drinking and keeping food in check at the same time. As much as I love my wine, having a glass (which always turns into 1/2 a bottle at least) leads to me munching on crap like there's no tomorrow. I'll work on becoming a carrot-eating drunk in a few weeks time, but for now it's best to go cold turkey.


Today I did laundry, worked out, made a batch of Precision Nutrition post-workout peanut butter banana bars, cleaned the bathroom and swept/mopped the entire house. For I am super mom, super wife, super Sara... I'm SUPERBAD. Word.



Hey guys, let's say your wife has had a little too much to drink and is trying to go to sleep without first having to worship the porcelain gods. The one thing that you absolutely should NOT do is EAT CRACKLINS (fucking fried pork skin, ya'll, I mean that's enough to make me barf without having the alcohol-induced spins) AND SMACK THEIR GREASY DISGUSTINGNESS IN HER EAR. The last thing I remember from last night is me pleading with D to please, please stop eating those right this minute... but it was too late.


Back & Forth

I almost hate to admit this, but I'm starting to think that there might be more to life than having the perfect body. (Gasp!) Is that true? No, no... I'm not going to start calling a bowl of cheetos with a side of dr. pepper a healthy breakfast, but I am letting some things back into my diet that I wasn't letting myself have before: aspartame-sweetened diet soda (think Diet Pepsi Max, the occasional Diet Mountain Dew and Diet Barq's rootbeer) in addition to my beloved Splenda-sweetened Diet Rite. Also, fruit. Yes, fruit. I had pretty much eliminated it for several weeks. Today there are frozen, unsweetened cherries and mango chunks in my freezer (thank you, Dole!), strawberries in my fridge and bananas on the counter. Take that, eating disorder! HAVE A FUCKING BANANA ALREADY!

I go back and forth with wanting to be super strict in order to get that "cut" look I so desire, and then I'll have days where I think frickin' frick, what's the point, I'm a coooooooooooow! I know that both of these thoughts are totally ridiculous. They're extremes. I KNOW that I am not the type of person who can eat chicken and broccoli day after day, I can't go 4 or 5 days without some sort of "cheat" meal, I can't do 60+ minutes of cardio a day. Yes, I would LOVE to look like those fitness models on the cover of Oxygen, and I have the knowledge to get there, but right now I just don't have the drive and determination and time to do what it takes. And shit, that's ok! And the thing about me being a cow and feeling down on myself, well... that's part being female, part body image issues, and I think we all have those days.

My point is that I *know* I am a fit and healthy woman, and I always will be. There will never be a time when I'll get hungry and reach for chips or a candy bar and call it a meal. I thought about that today while driving home from the grocery store, after examining the contents of other people's carts. I'm proud of the healthy habits I've developed over the years. I'm proud of my commitment to exercise and taking the stairs instead of the elevator, etc. I like eating 8+ servings of fruits and veggies each day. But I still have a belly. I have cellulite on the backs of my thighs. There are stretchmarks on the backs of my arms and on my breasts. I'll never be perfect. Sometimes I feel like I'm waiting to have the perfect body to really live life. And since I'll never have the perfect body, life is passing me by. D mentioned that the Smashing Pumpkins are playing Voodoo Music Fest. The first thing that popped into my head was we can't go because it'll wreck my diet! THAT AIN'T RIGHT. I really need to shift my focus. I'm bound to go crazy if I don't. I'm trying. It's hard. Hang in there, I know.


The night before last D and I swore that we wouldn't let Ethan come into our bed again. Of course Ethan woke up crying at around 2 a.m., and the first part of the plan was to go in and make sure he was ok, but then to give him a kiss and tell him to go to sleep and that I'd see him in the morning instead of scooping him up and bringing him to sleep with us like I had been doing. I braced myself for some major heartbreak as I headed to his room to tell him that it just wasn't happening tonight, he needed to sleep in his own bed, and when I approached his crib I saw that he'd taken off his pants and his diaper and had peed all over his crib. Fabulous. Oh for the love of Pete. I put a clean diaper on him and took him to bed with us. Hey, it was either that or turn on the light and change the sheets and make everyone miserable! He totally did that on purpose.

So last night we jammied him up in a onesie so he couldn't undress himself, and when he woke up crying "My mommy, my mommy!" at 2 a.m. as expected, we executed the plan like pros. I got up and hugged Ethan on the couch in his room for a few minutes and sang him some songs. Do you know what he did after that? He sat up and said "Come on, mommy. Let's go... bed. Come on, mommy..." and he did an exaggerated come here motion with his little arm... and said it again. "Come on, mommy. Let's go... bed." Fuck. I said "No, baby. Not tonight. You need to sleep in your bed. You need to go night-night in Ethan's bed." And he said "No!" and I said "Yes!" and he cried and I put him back in his crib and left the room. He was pretty pissed. How dare I! Then, 30 minutes later when he was still crying I nudged Drew to get up, it was his turn to go in there, and Drew turned over and put his pillow over his head. When I nudged him again he cursed for like 3 minutes straight and I think he actually growled, too. After another 5 or 10 minutes of listening to E cry he hit his pillow and cursed and growled again and finally got up and went to E's room to tell him to shut the hell up, but in a nice way. 15 minutes later everyone was asleep again, E in his crib THANK GAWD. The plan, it worked! And it wasn't nearly as painful as I thought it'd be. We'll see what happens tonight, oh I can't wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



It's time to get Ethan a big boy bed.


I am drowning in a sea of tears. Where did my baby go? WHERE OH WHERE?

Also: potty training, thinking about. Frick.


The last few nights Ethan has cried a wailing, pitiful howl every time we put him to bed. Last night I had about had it and started bawling myself. I didn't want to go in his room to comfort him, because that always makes it worse since you eventually have to put him back in his crib and leave the room. It floors me how he always seems so shocked that we're putting him back to bed... what the... mother! You! Woman! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, tucking me in to my safe, secure, soft crib like this!? Child abuse! SOMEBODY CALL CHILD PROTECTIVE SERVICES! He cries like his feelings are genuinely hurt, like we've broken his little heart. It's the same reaction I imagine I'd have if somebody told me that my favorite slimming, ultra-flattering jeans made my ass look huge. Psh.

Anyway! So last night Drew finally went in to "comfort" him. He'd been crying off and on for over 30 brutal minutes. For some reason D took him into the hallway, where Ethan promptly pointed in the direction of our dark bedroom and said There, there... there! Intrigued, D took Ethan into our room, where he immediately dove onto our bed and passed out. We weren't even in bed yet, we were still watching t.v. in the living room. Drew scratched his head, left the room and closed the door behind him. Not a peep. Not one sound! He was out cold. It was the most bizarre thing eva. Very rarely I'll take Ethan in our bed to sleep with us if he repeatedly cries out in the middle of the night, but that happens maybe once every 3 months. I don't understand the new allure of our bed, especially since we weren't even in it. Over the weekend we upgraded from a queen to a king. Maybe E decided that, heh, why sleep at the Motel 6 when you can stay at the Marriott? The little bugger knew exactly what he was doing. I told this story to 3 people today and each one of them laughed and said boy, he's got y'all wrapped around his finger! BREAK THIS HABIT NOW BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE!

So, tonight we showed him just who wears the pants in this relationship. That would be....... us! The PARENTS. He stopped crying about 5 minutes ago (knock on wood) and is now asleep in his crib. It's time for a big boy bed, which is my very worst nightmare, because I like him IN A CAGE. I guess I need to accept that he can't sleep in a crib until he's 6, we can't just keep buying bigger cribs to hold him... how very unfortunate. *sigh*


I've been marvelously right on with nutrition and training since Sunday. I'm feeling great! I ate enough asparagus the last 3 days to clear my post-hogfest bloat, so things are lookin' good. My new plan includes more "10%" meals, just with less food at each. I'll be able to hang on to what little sanity I have left by having 3 or 4 planned cheat meals each week instead of 1 or 2 ginormous, record-breaking ones.


Alright, off to watch Californication and LA Ink while eating a serving of Amyella's crustless meat pizza. The house is clean, dishes are done, laundry in the dryer, the tot is asleep in his cage... life is good.


My Ass, Now (back) in Gear...

I ate so much junk Friday night and all day yesterday that I couldn't wait to wake up this morning and eat an eggwhite omelet. I do believe that yesterday was spent simply eating all the things I don't normally let myself have. Ethan's half-eaten nutrigrain bar... a bag of hot wing/blue cheese flavored doritos... pasta at a restaurant... strawberry whoppers. 95% of the crap I ate wasn't all that great. I was actually kind of disappointed. I've become quite the food snob. And. AND! My body can't handle it. I had the most offensive gas in all the history of farting yesterday, you would not believe it. When my husband stops high-fiving me over letting one rip and instead runs for cover, you know it's bad. Anyway, I'm quite the bloated whale today but that will pass with a few days of clean eats.

I entered the official PN challenge when it began several weeks ago and I think I'm getting back in gear just in time to finish out the last 2 months of the challenge with a bang. I have every intention of displaying some amazing before and after photos when the challenge comes to a close in November. November 5th to be exact, with final photos and stats due back by the 16th. Sweet. I can do a lot in 2 months if I put my mind to it.

I've been on the go most of the day today. I did a ton of laundry (3 loads!), did the Cardio Blast premix from Drill Max, helped D set up our king mattress and load up the old queen, made 2 batches of PN peanut butter fudge anytime bars, ordered this book, ordered a 5 pound tub of Dymatize Elite whey protein powder in Berry Blast flave, packed my meals for tomorrow and made Amyella's crustless meat pizza. I plan to spend the rest of the day reading magazines, sipping green tea and coloring with E. Happy Sunday!



Gah, things are crazy busy at work. I'm now the contracts administrator, general admin, secretary and office manager. We also have 2 new offices that have just one or two people in them, and for some reason I'm their go-to girl for EVERYTHING. The problem is that I don't have any answers to their questions. I pretend to, and I guess I learn new things this way, but damn. I'm taking the art of multitasking to a whole new level. But! Time goes by quickly and I leave each day feeling like I've actually done something useful and I adore the people I work with (most of the time, anyway). I suppose it could be worse, but it could ALWAYS be worse, ya know? That phrase no longer comforts me. Yeah, I could be dead. It's not really anyone's dream to be a CA or an office manager when they grow up, is it? Are young children everywhere aspiring to be administrative assistants? Anxious high school seniors lining up to get their go at contract administration? I think NOT. But. But! I haven't grown up yet so there's still time. THAT IS WHAT I TELL MYSELF LET ME LIE TO MYSELF IN PEACE DO NOT BURST MY SAD LITTLE ADMINISTRATIVE BUBBLE.


Since training in Boca my days have been a little unorganized food-wise. I finally broke down today and GAVE myself permission to skip my workout (weights! I skipped weights! I NEVER skip weights!). I never skip workouts. Like, ever. Not even when I'm feverish and my throat is swollen shut. But I've been PNing with enthusiasm for a several months now, and after the pigfest in Boca nearly 2 weeks ago my motivation has dwindled. I finally decided that today through Sunday I'm taking the pressure off. I skipped today's workout (though I WILL work out tomorrow and Sunday) and am eating cheetos and drinking Merlot. I know, it seems like I'm ALWAYS drinking Merlot. Yes. Well. I assure you I'm not. I wish I was! Perhaps an all Merlot diet is in order? No? Ok. Anyway! Monday I'm starting a whole new 12 week "challenge". I agree that a healthy lifestyle is not broken down into 12 week challenges, but for me it sometimes helps to keep my motivation up, plus you can remind yourself that there's a light at the end of the cottage cheese and eggwhite tunnel. I love the foods I eat on PN and how I feel with the meal timing and lower carb meal plan, but sometimes a girl needs to snuggle up with some fast food and booze and be a sloth for a day or two to get back on track. I am not one to let a weekend of trans-fat and alcohol totally derail me for weeks. If anything I'll be more than ready to go come Monday. The point is that I need a few days to not worry about eating veggies and protein at every meal so that I can kick ass more than ever for another 12 weeks. I feel good about that decision and I think the fact that I've written a huge paragraph explaining to the internet that I'M TAKING 3 DAYS OFF FROM MY USUAL ULTRA-HEALTHY EATING reveals just how fucking nutty I am. I'll be back to kicking ass on Monday. That's all there is to it. Do I get a cookie for recognizing that I need a break and actually giving myself one? (Better eat that cookie before Monday!) (That's my problem right there!) (Mmm, cookies.)


One last thing: Um, DOG FOR SALE. No, I WILL PAY YOU TO TAKE MY DOG. Here's a brief but accurate description:

Name: Bogart. Male chihuahua, 4 years old. Small build for his breed but fat as fuck. Tan fur, sheds enough to knit a sweater for planet Earth. Runs away when called. Licks up his own urine. Enjoys licking other dog's urine. Occasionally eats his own feces. I'm sure he enjoys other dog's feces as well. Snores. Snores. Snores worse than my smoking, drunk husband. Nips at strangers ankles. Did I mention he slurps up his own piss?

Charming, right? I've toyed with the idea of getting my father-in-law to shoot him and get it over with already. Seriously. He's just a disgusting pain in my ASS, but I can't bring myself to get rid of him. When he's gone I AM SO DONE WITH PETS. Done I say!

Now I feel bad. I'm going to go find Bogart now and pet him. And then I'm going to wash my hands with scolding hot water and undiluted bleach.


The Greatest

If you haven't heard the band Muse then you simply must click over to their site and listen immediately. Now. Go. Hurry! They're on my top 5 greatest bands eva list (number 1 being the Smashing Pumpkins) and when I listen to them on the way to work it makes me want to drive right by my office and go where the road takes me. Which, if I'm literally driving by my office I would likely end up at either Whole Foods or Kinko's, but you get the idea. They rock. (But you've got to say that in a British accent.)


Does This Count As A Post?



Everyone needs a list. A list of 5 things you want to do before you die. Things that would take some effort to achieve but aren't impossible. I was inspired by a fabulous woman I met on business in Florida who insisted that everyone needs a list, why didn't I have a list? Her items included driving an eighteen wheeler, if only the length of a supercenter parking lot, and scoring "diamond" seats to watch her favorite baseball team play.

What is on your list? I'm still working on mine...



4 reasons to subscribe to Showtime:

1) Weeds. Mary-Louise Parker, Elizabeth Perkins and Kevin Nealon plus pounds and pounds of marijuana? Yes please! (Trust me, this is good stuff. D and I decided to pay $15 extra bucks a month for Showtime after renting seasons 1 and 2 from blockbuster just so we wouldn't have to wait forever for season 3 to come out on dvd. The opening song is reason enough to watch!)

2) Californication. David Duchovny plus hot sex and boobie scenes every episode. And it comes on right after Weeds.

3) Fat Actress. Admittedly I watched my first episode because there was nothing else on, but 5 minutes into it I was hooked and couldn't believe I'd been missing out all this time. This show is hilarious. Even D loves it! He watched it by himself while I was on business in Florida, people. (While giving himself a pedicure and wearing woman's underwear, I'm sure.) It's good.

4) Dexter. Smokin' hot blood splatter expert for the Miami PD that stalks and murders the guilty in his free time? Oh, oh so awesome. My sister turned me on to this a few weeks ago and I've been watching ever since. Last night we discovered that we have all the episodes on On Demand to watch at our leisure. We watched 3 in a row last night.

So much for oh, I'm not really a t.v. person. Hrmph.



Alright people, here's the deal. I miss blogging and I miss it bad. It's my mid-day cup-o-tea, my nightcap, my prozac all in one. I swear from this day forward to blog every single solitary day, even if just to check in and report that my period was especially heavy that day. Or that I ate an entire mushroom and black olive pizza in one sitting. Or that I managed to do bicep curls with a 50 pound barbell. You know, the important stuff that everyone wants to know. I find myself thinking gah! I need to blog! I have so much to say! and then time just slips away and there's laundry to do and dishes to wash and weights to be lifted and baby to bathe and husband to blow and sleep to be slept, and people stop visiting my blog and stop caring and I don't get the chance to say all the things that I can't usually say out loud. That's just it, my blog lets me complain about things that people would normally shun in day-to-day conversation, and my blog lets me brag on things that people would normally dismiss as obsessive or conceited in everyday life. Plus, and more importantly, my blog has spell check which I really wish was included in everyday life. Wouldn't that be nice? I remember a time when I was talking to my sister Emily and she said she had read my recent blog post, that it was funny (ha ha!) and insightful but that I had referred to ying and yang. Yeah, so? I inquired. Uh... well, it's YIN and yang, she offered. You're lying! I protested. No. It's YIN. Not YING. Shit. So see? It's clear that I NEED a grammer check feature as well but that's not happening any time soon. Hang on a sec, I need a tad bit more Merlot. Just a smidge... *guzzle, guzzle*

Let's see. Where did we leave off? Ethan is a freaking genius. Have I told you that before? Yeah, the kid is nuts, but in a good way. He loves his new classroom (the 2-year old room) and doesn't want to leave when we go to pick him up at the end of the day. He likes to boss me around, that's his new "thing". No mommy he'll say, or here mommy and he'll hand me my glass of wine. (Ok, not really but wouldn't that be rad? So rad...) (He usually says here, mommy and hands me a book or his sippy cup.) He likes to hide in the racks of clothing when we're out shopping so I'll say Holy hell, where's Ethan? Ethan, where are you? and he'll jump out of the clothes and smile and laugh with his whole body. I want ten more just like him but there's just no guarantee and I'm not sure that's a risk I'm willing to take. Ethan is like my friggin' sidekick. I want nothing more than to curl up on the couch with him after a long day and read a book, or have him wipe snot on my shoulder, or watch the latest episode of Sesame Street. Let me tell you... the same people that were on Sesame Street when YOU were a kid are still on there now, I shit you not. AND, they haven't aged AT ALL. I don't know what they're smokin' but I WANT SOME. Also, someone recently said that Big Bird is a GIRL? Is this true? I've always been under the impression that Big Bird was a dude. Thoughts?

I've been working out harder than ever but am easing up a bit with the rigid food rules I imposed upon myself as I got more and more into Precision Nutrition. PN states from the beginning that you follow the rules 90% of the time. That means that if I'm eating 6 meals a day, 7 days a week that I get 4 meals to play with. I'd been limiting myself to one or two big blow-out meals and it was getting to be a bit much. My job recently sent me away to Boca Raton Florida for 4 nights (4 nights!) and I hogged it up, man. I totally oinked out. That was my red flag that, uh, it's time to settle the fuck down. Eat something sinful more often so you don't go all hoggy-ho in cases like these. I've been maintaining my weight which is great, there's still more I'd like to lose but damn. Having a glass of wine every few nights might be worth a little extra badunk in my trunk, ya know? I've had to dig deep to find out why I put so much emphasis on being thin and being wanted by men. I know that sounds awful BUT IT'S TRUE. It has to do with my being molested by my friend's older brother ONE TIME as a kid, it goes back to my real father, who never wanted me (and has had little to do with me my entire life), and my complicated and VERY unpleasant relationship with my step-father up until he was diagnosed with brain cancer in 2000. It's true. I have issues with men and issues with sex and issues with myself and my body. I honestly think I would benefit from some sort of therapy. Just to let it all out. I have carried on for all this time being numb. Numb with alcohol or numb with drugs or numb with food... I'm tired of being numb. What's wrong with FEELING? What then? What happens when you let yourself live and be real and be human and feel raw and vulnerable? Well, I'm exploring that now. Health and fitness is one thing. Control and self-medicating with a subconscious eating disorder or a drinking problem is quite another. I'll keep you posted. I was going to apologize for maybe sharing too much but, well, THIS IS MY BLOG, dammit, SUCK IT. Whatever IT may be... my big toe, perhaps? An ear?

Things are good and I have a ton to say. I'll save more for tomorrow. I'm back, I'll be posting regularly and I hope you'll grab a glass of wine and join me. Cheers!

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