17 February 2011

Long Time No Talk. . .

Well, hello there, party people. Sorry about the week-long absence. Life's been pretty tough for our family lately, but here we are with our heads poking out on the other side. Last time I was on here I was bound and determined that nothing would break my stride. Well, let's just say that the stride was broken like a sombitch. Shoot.

Matt had been out of town (which I didn't tell you about before just in case you are a murderer who would then decide that--since my strapping protector husband was gone--it was high time for some murderin'), and I learned the hard way that I'm just no good at being by myself for long periods of time.* Even Mitch missed him.

But Matt's back, and although there are still some very sad circumstances that are out of our control, and some very annoying circumstances that are out of our control, we're doing better. It's been nice returning to our awesome, albeit boring, routine.

Cue the triumphant Forrest Gump music!

You didn't miss too much in the last week. I spent too many hours grading essays, waiting tables, and being otherwise pitiful. I was abandoned by Matt's car not just once but twice. I may or may not have witnessed a gas station robbery. I ate too much fast food and drank too much wine--so much wine, in fact, that I may have accidentally fallen into some curtains and pulled them down from the window. Oops. I filed the mail for the first time since this happened. And I started our taxes.

Exciting, huh? Try not to get too carried away with jealousy.

Actually, look at today's weather forecast for the SAV, and then you can be overcome with envy.

So, yeah. Things sucked there for a while, and I apologize for the absence. But short weeks and happy times lie ahead of us, and I can't wait to share those with you. I've missed y'all.**

*Judge away. I've spent days beating myself up about not actually being the strong, independent, "I don't need a man" kind of gal I've always fancied myself to be. Twenty-year old Mandy kind of hates twenty-nine year Mandy, but it doesn't really matter. Twenty-year old Mandy was a terrible cook, so take that!

**Twenty-year old Mandy also judges present-day Mandy for her use of y'all. Twenty-year old Mandy is such a bitch!


  1. As much as I love you, 29 year-old Mandy, you better quit talkin' smack on my girl! That girl is just a few months away from flashing my wedding guests. 21 year-old Mandy is definitely my favorite!!!

  2. Ha! That girl couldn't do anything in moderation! (Neither can this one.) How are you? I haven't talked to you in 100 year. BTW, I think I might have made your favorite dessert of all time last night.



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