Hubs baked salmon last night. Salmon in baking dish, smothered in onion, plus butter and Worcestershire sauce.
Worked for me.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Hubs baked salmon last night. Salmon in baking dish, smothered in onion, plus butter and Worcestershire sauce.
Worked for me.
screams
This is the email I just got from the HR recruiter (after I sent her one asking who I should contact for feedback about my interview, because I was starting to get anxious):
I apologize for the delay.
You point of contact would be Tania (last name removed); she will be in touch with you later today. Please don't be so nervous, enjoy your day! :)
Please let me know what the feedback from Tania you received (I am crossing my fingers for you). :)
Gah. Gaaaaah. flail, flail, flail
There goes MY concentration for the day.
We could do the anti-cookbook next. We'll take those fish recipes, Sean's Tub-o-Riz recipe, and my mother's jello salad recipe as a start.
Oooh. Job-ma for Jilli.
Sounds like an emo band.
But getting out of the house is a good thing. Do you have a park or something nearby that would be an inexpensive car trip? Even if you didn't want to walk somewhere, if you could drive to a park and hang out with Lily it might be nice. There might even be other moms and kids there.
I fear other moms. (I don't really talk to the humans much.)
Honestly, this isn't a huge change. I've always tended to hole up rather than leave the house by myself. It's just that pre-pregancy, I'd get out of the house to go to work, which provided me with all the mental stimulation and human contact I needed.
Yes, I was the girl who spent spring breaks in her room, checking message boards and thinking from time to time that she probably needed to get out more.
Fingers crossed, Jilli.
Oh Jilli, that sounds promising. I don't know how they could be anything other than smitten with you.
job~ma, Jilli.
Whoo, Jilli! Fingers crossed, indeed.
I fear other moms.
It took me four years to join the Mothers and More chapter. I mean, Ben was too old really for me to need it, but I was finally at a point where I wanted to meet someone I could go have coffee (or really, preferably) a beer with.
I'm thinking of looking into a moms group up here, but I really don't want to. I hoping maybe a writing/my-kind-of-TV-loving/reader-type person will conveniently move in next door.
Sara just dropped a toy on the floor and, I swear to God, said, "Shit." Ooops.
Sara just dropped a toy on the floor and, I swear to God, said, "Shit." Ooops.
BWHAHAHAHAHA!