I was going to make this post all cool and full of pictures, but my computer at work is stupid, and won't let me upload photos off of my iPhone. And I've downloaded 3 different apps onto said iPhone, and none of them will let me upload pictures, either. SO NO PICTURES FOR YOU.

I seriously ate a truckload of awful food this weekend. It started Friday night, when Skip and I were both feeling cranky and angst-y, and we were both so hungry that we really didn't care what we ate. So we settled on Chinese. And then realized that the Chinese place we went to was not a buffet. Seriously?! We had no idea you could order Chinese food from a menu. *mindblown* We high-tailed it outta there, and Skip took to the open road.

4 blocks later, we were in the parking lot of Five Guys. Mmm... Grease! Burgers! We were so hungry that the airborne calories couldn't even scare us away. And neither of us cared. THAT kind of hungry is a dangerous place to be. But I ate my giant cheeseburger (with lettuce and tomato and lard sauce) and my pound of fries dripping in cardiac arrest, and I washed it down with a Coke Zero. True story. Because the regular Coke would've really pushed me over the limit.

The next morning, Skip's mom and step-dad were in town. With two grandchildren, and one miniature yorkie. They dropped said yorkie off at our now-immaculate apartment (BECAUSE I SPENT THE ENTIRE NIGHT BEFORE CLEANING AND RECOVERING FROM A FAT-HANGOVER), and we headed out to breakfast. At IHOP. For pancakes. Seriously. I can't make this stuff up, people.

I ordered 2 eggs over easy, butter drenched wheat toast, and lean ham. I did not know that plate of goodness came with a pound of greasetastic hash browns. I did know that my intention was to only eat 1/3 of those hash browns. I am positive that I covered the whole pile in ketchup and salt, and I ate them all. And I put 18 packets of sugar in my coffee. And then drowned it in creamer. And I drank it, and it was good.

We then spent a couple hours recovering from breakfast back at our apartment... Which was mostly spent trying to keep children out of my breakables. And my toilet. And my trashcan. I was assured that I didn't need to child-proof my home, but clearly *someone* was wrong about that. I now have rocks in my reed diffuser. I don't know what to do about that. So I'm gonna just pretend like I don't see it, and let the reeds keep diffusing lovely vanilla-ey goodness into my pretty bedroom.

Several stressful hours later, the family was ready for lunch. And where, oh where, do they want to go? FIVE GUYS. No, your eyes do not deceive you. Those caps don't lie. We went to Five Guys. Again. For the second time in 24 hours. Just when I thought the grease had been filtered out of my bloodstream, we were headed back for more. *facepalm*

I still ordered a Coke Zero. Don't judge.

After lunch, was more quality time spent at our apartment. Nothing really notable here.

Dinner... Dinner was barbecue. Meat. Sauce. Meat. Fat. French fries. Ketchup. Baked beans. Fat. Bread. Sugar-coma sweet tea. I threw the Coke Zero out the window, and went balls-to-the-walls with that one. I'm from the south... You can't have barbecue without sweet tea. And it's not really sweet tea unless it makes your face hurt. And this stuff was the real deal. Like, imported directly from the south. It was so sweet, you'd slap yo' momma.

Skip and I wobbled home after that meal, and continued to feel really ill. Our weekends are generally "light eating" days... We often skip breakfast, graze for lunch, and then eat a big dinner. Three big meals was just too much for us to handle. We slept like babies. Fat, bloated, gassy babies.

Thankfully, we avoided breakfast on Sunday morning. Skip and I could not possibly handle more food before noon. Lunch wasn't anything to write home about, although I'm sure it was far less healthy than I thought it was... Because it was restaurant food, and restaurant food is always 6,429 times worse than anything you could make at home. Legit.

Skip and I spent the rest of the day Sunday laying around in misery, avoiding food at all costs. We snacked in the late evening, but that was it. Even breakfast this morning was difficult to swallow... I'm seriously still not hungry. Food is the enemy.

We also spent the weekend playing with Skip's nephews (when they weren't putting rocks in my reed diffuser), and that was fun. Kids are all cute and stuff... They make funny faces when they eat, and they repeat anything you ask them to. OH, and they think bubbles are like super awesome magic. Truth. They are. Who doesn't love bubbles?

But, spending the weekend supervising small children also reminds me that I'm not ready to be a parent. Kids are fun, and then you send them home with someone else. I like my immaculate apartment, my rock-free reed diffuser, and sleep. Kids would kind of screw up all of those things for me.

Oh, did I mention that Skip shot me in the eye with a Nerf dart gun? Oh, yea, he did. It was like Russian Roulette. But not sexy and Russian. He thought it was empty, but there was one in the chamber. And that one in the chamber ended up in my eyeball. No bueno. I've already started on the divorce papers.

But I lubs hiiiiiimmmmm. <3

(And I totally want to go put Nerf guns on our wedding registry.)

*longestblogposteveraboutnothing*

--Malaya