This evening I PMS-ed for roughly ninety minutes and then I got my Monthly Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child. Can it be like this every month, please? Instead of the weeklong binge-and-cry-fest that usually takes place? But I suspect it may also have had something to do with the fact that my body has been distracted by three straight days of driving, flying, driving, driving, shopping and then more driving to actually realize that it was getting ready for woman time.*
But that is also another way of saying: Hooray for being home for the holidays! I can't wait until I can actually stay in one place without driving 2 to 6 hours everyday. I think that will happen on Friday! But it has been wunderbar so far. I am just about 85% done with my Christmas gift shopping with, like, three days left to go! A-mah-zing.
Also: Eating meat that isn't flavored with tears and suffering while on vacation has proven to be a slight challenge, but not one that I cannot overcome. Although, eating happy meatstuffs and hippie-dippie organic fare is so much easier in the fantastical, beautiful world of Northern California than it is in Texas, let me tell you. Thus far, I have managed to stay strong through my older brother's breakfast of Longanisa (He asked if I was going to have any. I died inside as I stared longingly at it for ten seconds and responded, "No...I'll have to be happy just smelling it..." SOB!) on Tuesday and my brother in law's chicken cordon bleu tonight.
However.
My mother came to the rescue last night when, after leaving my brother's condo in Santa Clara and battling assorted Bay Area traffic to pick Schmooblebutt from the airport, drive him to his parents' house in Napa and then drive me and BB to Santa Rosa - amounting to six hours in the freaking car - I finally arrived home at 10pm, exhausted and starving, having only eaten the aforementioned granola bar, smoothie, coffee and crackers all day. My dad had made roasted vegetables and chicken for dinner and when I saw it I wept silently and said, "Well...I guess I can have the vegetables." and then my mom said, "Oh! But this is free range chicken from Oliver's!" and then I cranked my jaw open like that cartoon guy from the old Reach toothbrush commercials and dumped all the delicious homemade non-suffering tasting food down my gullet.
The end.
But that is also another way of saying: Hooray for being home for the holidays! I can't wait until I can actually stay in one place without driving 2 to 6 hours everyday. I think that will happen on Friday! But it has been wunderbar so far. I am just about 85% done with my Christmas gift shopping with, like, three days left to go! A-mah-zing.
Also: Eating meat that isn't flavored with tears and suffering while on vacation has proven to be a slight challenge, but not one that I cannot overcome. Although, eating happy meatstuffs and hippie-dippie organic fare is so much easier in the fantastical, beautiful world of Northern California than it is in Texas, let me tell you. Thus far, I have managed to stay strong through my older brother's breakfast of Longanisa (He asked if I was going to have any. I died inside as I stared longingly at it for ten seconds and responded, "No...I'll have to be happy just smelling it..." SOB!) on Tuesday and my brother in law's chicken cordon bleu tonight.
However.
My mother came to the rescue last night when, after leaving my brother's condo in Santa Clara and battling assorted Bay Area traffic to pick Schmooblebutt from the airport, drive him to his parents' house in Napa and then drive me and BB to Santa Rosa - amounting to six hours in the freaking car - I finally arrived home at 10pm, exhausted and starving, having only eaten the aforementioned granola bar, smoothie, coffee and crackers all day. My dad had made roasted vegetables and chicken for dinner and when I saw it I wept silently and said, "Well...I guess I can have the vegetables." and then my mom said, "Oh! But this is free range chicken from Oliver's!" and then I cranked my jaw open like that cartoon guy from the old Reach toothbrush commercials and dumped all the delicious homemade non-suffering tasting food down my gullet.
The end.
* Although, in hindsight, this probably explains why, en route to picking up Schmoobs at the airport last night, I got confused and frustrated by the directions - or lack thereof - getting from the SFO cellphone lot back to the terminals and had to backtrack along Hwy 101 6pm bottleneck rush hour traffic twice. In tears.
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