I was going to write a post about how Hamburger Helper (aw, tastes like College!) is never as good the second day, and then I thought, “I am eating leftover Hamburger Helper, WTF should I expect?”

The cold I’ve been fighting for a couple of weeks finally got me this weekend, although it did not so much mow me down as it did knock me to the couch for hour-at-a-time stretches. At one point, I found myself flipping back and forth between My Girl and The Notebook, and I think I grew a second uterus, what with all the estrogen surging, etc. (Sidenote: I forgot how attractive Jamie Lee Curtis was in the early nineties [NEARLY TWENTY EFFING YEARS AGO OMG I’M OLD]. I’ve gotten so accustomed to her shilling Poop Yogurt that I forget she used to be young and foxy. Not that she doesn’t still look great for her age, but seriously: Poop. Yogurt.)

Let me distract you from the poop talk with something shiny!
Today is J’s birthday – thirty-four! Which is mid-thirties!


I don't know what any of this really means. Power in the toes? But "A big wagon helps"? Totally J.

Happy Birthday, sugarbritches!