It's not like obsessed with my stats, but I do check them from time to time. OK, a couple times a day. And something strange has happened. Many of you nice visitors are here to find pictures of Carolyn Bessette Kennedy. I don't know why.
But I figured I might as well tell you something. She's not here.
(Seriously, people, has something else happened in the Kennedy camp? Why is everyone looking for pictures of John-John's wife?)
Also, I am not here. OK, I am, I just wish I weren't here, i.e., in my house, because I'd rather be here, i.e., on the internet.
I love my family quite a bit, considering how weird and attention-hogging they are. (I come by both characteristics quite naturally, thankyouverymuch.)
But I cooked a big Christmas dinner on Christmas. On the 27th I flew to NH, where the dishwasher is completely verfuckt. On the 29th four family members came over, and I prepared a glazed pork roast, potatoes Anna, green beans, salad, and ice cream with chocolate ganache and whipped cream. On the thirtieth my in-laws came by. On the 31st, New Year's Eve, my family descended again and we made lasagna and more salad and an apple pie. On New Year's Day other family members showed up and we made fried chicken, Hopping John, rice, sauteed Swiss Chard.
You remember that my dishwasher is dead, right?
Well, yesterday I spent about three hours in the kitchen until there wasn't a dirty dish or pan or pot anywhere, all the counters were shining, everything was put away, and it was House Beautiful-ready.
Today the dishwasher repairman came by, but he needs to get a part before the dishwasher will be fixed.
So I'm thinking, hey, paper plates until that sweet, sweet time arrives. AND NO MORE COOKING. AND NO MORE FAMILY except my cute husband and our demon spawn.
Then the phone rang. It was my sister wanting to know whether I wanted to go anywhere today. I played for time. The husband was out in the car, so I couldn't go anywhere, anyway.
The honest answer would have been, of course, "No, unless you mean back to bed, curled up in a fetal position."
But she likes to shop. She really, really likes to shop. So she'd interpret that remark to mean "I want to go to the Cuddledown Outlet store. Maybe they're having a sale!"
I'll probably cave. Before you know it, I'll be out shopping with my big sister.
Our dishwasher is verfuckt too, so I feel your pain a great deal. Tomorrow I'm going to the store and handing them a lot of money to improve the situation very quickly.
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