02.06.05 :: 2:50 pm

cheesey all get out but the part in Garden State where he goes "I know you four days and you changed my life," Ry and I looked at each other at the same time and I know we were both thinking "Yeah, no joke."

He's made a vat full of his special Southwestern Chili which is guaranteed to blow roofs off of houses if everyone farts at the same time, but damn if it ain't deeelish.

Last night we went to an amazing Vietnamese little hole in the wall with wooden stools and little wooden tables and I ate the most amazing noodles & shrimp dish, I could die. DIE.

Why is it that I tie in happiness with food? It must be a childhood thing. Whenever I felt sad, my mom would make me something yummy.
Whenever I felt anything, really.
"Ma, I did 12 fouettes in a row today."
"Congrats! I'll make you something!"

I'm completely stunned that I don't weigh 200 pounds.

Now.
Superbowl Sunday. Got the fricken-fracken laundry done and I'm ready for feasting at Trixie T's & Her Hubby's pad.
Fuck it; diet is on starting again tomorrow.

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