I Confess . . .

I am a very strange person. I do the oddest things, and today I feel compelled to share a few examples. They are not related in any way; but somehow they go together in a random-what-the-heck-it's-Friday kind of way.

You're aware, I'm sure, that I loved pickles before I got pregnant. Now that I'm pregnant, I wonder on a daily basis why people don't write odes about them. I mean really: pickles. Salty, vinegar-y pickles. Are they not the stuff of poetry?

(http://wwff.wordpress.com/2007/06/25/pickles-are-evil/)
Delicious, delicious evil. 

Job Opening for Full Time Dishwasher.

Full-time dishwasher needed.

Rubber gloves and patience a must.

Facial Hair: A Manifesto

Let me clarify. This post is about male facial hair.

http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20529952,00.html

However, I feel the same about female facial hair as I do male facial hair. Which is to say, I'm not a fan. 

My Current Relationship with Running. And Bribery.

This is me several years ago. I was finishing a 3K and running like the wind. (Not really. Just go with it.)

I don't really run like the wind anymore. In fact, I rarely run. So I have resorted to something to get myself back in shape. Something shameful.

5 Things: Pancakes and such . . .

Because when it gets busy, my mind goes into its default mode: lists. And food.

Image from http://www.glenhavenfire.org/AboutUs/Fundraising/PancakeBreakfast.aspx

The Saga of the Pickles.

Image From http://bridedesign.com/wesley-refrigerator-pickles-portland/. A bridal site. I know, right?

Dear World,

I love all things salty. Olives, saltine crackers, pretzels; I love them all. But pickles - oh man. Pickles. Maybe it's a genetic predisposition for all things tricked out in salt; maybe my sodium levels are always unbearably low, maybe I'm a simply a salt addict in denial (NOT). I adore pickles.

Of Spatulas.

Ever since I was a little girl, I hated spatulas. Because, you see, when my mom used them, I knew there would be less dough/batter to lick out of the bowl. And for a sweet tooth such as myself, that was unacceptable. (I once stole and ate an entire bag of Reese's peanut butter chips, convinced my mom would never find out. She did.)

So as I was baking today, I found myself using the spatula to help some dough into a pan. Then I grinned an evil grin. I finished pouring out the batter, then licked the spatula clean.

Then I licked the bowl clean. All by my onesy-selvy.

Being an adult is a wonderful thing.

My Life in Pictures: Seagulls

Okay, so this is a weird thing about me.