– Last weekend our friends threw a tenth wedding anniversary party, and in addition to dancing primarily to 90s music so hard I pulled muscles I hadn’t been aware of since “Push It Real Good” was popular, we had a great time celebrating a truly remarkable milestone while trying to tone down the poop and pony play conversations in front of Angela and Justin’s family. Ten years is a damn long time to be married and they weathered quite a few storms to get there. It was an amazing party for an amazing couple.
– While dancing my friend Stefanie decided to “make it rain” by throwing Hershey kisses on the dance floor, and in my haste to enjoy the chocolate shower (wait, WHAT) I slipped on a kiss and fell down on my knee hard enough to create some impressive bruise patterns. Also I hurt my back so later while we were dancing and getting low low low I couldn’t help but cry, “Ow, my back!” which prompted Angela to cry out, “Ow, my knee!” and then someone else, “Ow, my teeth!” Needless to say, it was a PARTY and probably everyone went home pregnant it was that good.
– Isobel enjoyed the night at Casa de Grandparents where her every whim was catered to by two doting grandparents who missed her. The next day Anthony and I woke up sore (my case) and dreadfully hung over (his case) and we went for breakfast without much tending to our personal hygiene. My hair was still up in the maiden braids I’d had it in the night before, and as we walked to the cafe we were stopped by an older couple. The woman remarked on how cute my hair looked and she told me that her mother used to style her hair the same way but with ribbons at the ends. I knew my hair looked a bit worse for wear so I told her that I’m sure her mother did a better job with it than I did. “Nonsense, you look great!” the old man responded, “Why you got this young man to buy you breakfast, didn’t you?” It was then I realized they thought our trip to breakfast was a walk of shame.
– My British pal Nic Piper asked me over twitter if Mitt is like an actual name that people have over here. My theory always was and always will be that it’s short for Mittens and that his mom expected him to be some sort of tabby. My friend Stef suggested it was short for Mittwad and I have to agree that makes much more sense.
– Last Saturday was like three weekends smooshed into one. In addition to the epic anniversary party we went to a giant community church sale and the Greek Food Festival a couple towns over. The community church sale was really lackluster this year but it reminded me of another important milestone that occurred last week: I bought the original Pink Purse at least year’s community church sale, which means my daughter has been carrying around a pink purse with her literally everywhere she goes, including to bed, for the past year.
– The holidays are around the corner! Let me know if you want an ad on Little Big before spots fill up.
- Video: Thrift Shop
- Scrapbook: Castle Air Museum
- 50 Thrifty: Mud Cooking
- Pasta with Peas & Prosciutto… or not
A Pregnant Pause. My friend Laura writes an important post about miscarriage.
The Banana Slicer. SO MUCH EASIER than shoving a whole banana in my mouth like I normally do! (Check out the reviews.) Via Ellen.
Email Forward RIP. Are you making tombstones for your front yard again for Halloween? Because this would be hilarious. Via Ellen.
11 Amazing Library Tattoos. I can’t pick a favorite they are all so good. Thanks to everyone who sent this link my way.
- I feel ya, kid
- Been makin’ mango and berry Greek yogurt smoothies
- Quickfire challenge
- Greek OMFNoms
- Alert the History Channel
- Click clack click clack
- Damn paparazzi
- SRS Bingoface OMG
- Friday night wine and bingo
- In bed.
I’m behind on some stuff, but I hope to return to answering Reader Questions next week! I have a few very interesting ones saved in my folder, but I always love to hear more. Send ’em my way if you got ’em!
Do you have a question for me? I’d love to answer it! You can leave your question in the comments, @-reply me on twitter, email it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org or send me a messenger pigeon. Don’t actually do the last one, though. My cat will eat it.