My dinner: smoked salmon, angel hair pasta, onion, zucchini, peas, and the last of the pesto (not quite enough, but still).

I am made entirely of envy.

I burned the grilled cheese. There were literally flames. (On an oven mitt, but still -- flames.) This is why, when we have grilled cheese, *I* am not normally the one who makes it. But *someone* was disassembling a damn drill press.

Oh, and since we hit up the Cost Plus while we were briefly in Seattle this weekend, dessert is a tiny bit of Strawberry and Champagne dark chocolate.

I've never been in a relationship

How are we defining them? I'm never sure what counts.

I often wonder what would happen if, gods forbid, S. dropped dead. I met him when I was not quite eighteen. I've only ever really been in a relationship with *him*.

dessert is a tiny bit of Strawberry and Champagne dark chocolate

Oh, good god. I gotta get some of that.

Random thought: The Ting Tings' "That's Not My Name" has no right to be as good as it is.

Met D. at 37. No freak-ass church, but years of thinking overweight = unattractive, yeah. What Steph said.

I made potato skillets tonight, with potatoes fried in bacon grease, served with baby bella mushrooms sauteed in butter, garlic, onions and red wine with sour cream, parmesan cheese and salsa. D had two over-easy eggs on his; I thought the potatoes were heart attack worthy enough without the egg.

I am stuffed. But it was delicious.

All of you who didn't burn your dinners can bite me.

I think I will eat pumpkin ice cream. That will make it better.

I met my husband when I was 19.

I met Bec when I was 19 and she was 17. I was 36 when I met Wallybee; she was 33. (33 was pretty far over the hill acording to Chinese cultural expectations, not that she cared particularly. I think her parents were worried about it though.)

I think I will eat pumpkin ice cream. That will make it better.

I expect so.