In the past two days, I've mostly recovered from necrosis of the tonsils.
I've attended a strangely enjoyable black tie event in the company of Wendy, one of Jen Lancaster's many friends. Wendy came with her husband, which is pretty amazing right there.
You see, many members of my blogging posse (blackbird, Susie Sunshine, Carol-in-Texas) profess to have husbands, but do you ever see them? No, you do not.
For all I know, these purported "husbands" are invisible six-foot rabbits like in that Jimmy Stewart movie. (You know, the one where he played a tall, skinny, gangly, shy fellow who may or may not be completely mental.)
You will be glad to hear that Wendy's husband is extremely nice (in other words, was willing to show up) funny (laughed at my jokes) and adorable (has all his hair) and on top of that, doesn't appear to be at all mental.
OK, so after that, this morning my husband and I got up at what the Spanish call el cracko del dawno to take our daughter to Girls on the Run Chicago at Montrose Harbor. And watched her run a 5K.
I'll just say that this is the first and ONLY 5K done by any member of my family. And I'm not just proud, I'm verklempt-proud.
THEN I came home and gave myself a pedicure and changed into pink and green to look cute when Wendy and I went to see Jen Lancaster appear with Stephanie Klein on a panel overseen by Stacey Ballis at the Printer's Row Book Fair.
And soon, best-beloveds, I shall treat you to pictures of most of this. But with all the excitement and fresh air and sunshine? I came home and FELL ASLEEP.
And therefore, soon, sooner, soonest? I'll be going TO BED.