I know, I know. It's gotten pretty bad when my husband calls me from Iraq and says, "You haven't been writing on your blog!" Truth be told, I've been shopping like an idiot. Shopping like an idiot is when you go in store after store after store even though you've been in there before (probably the day before), because you're convinced that the item of clothing that you don't want to spend fifty dollars on has gone on sale. I can't stop. I think that's what happens when you live on a base. They order such ugly clothes that when I see stuff here that I actually would be caught dead in, I go into overload.
Not to mention that I've been eating, and eating, and eating. Seafood, cheese (dairy hangovers be damned!), hearts of palm, you name it, I want it. On a plate. With a side of fries, please.
Thankfully, Momma has a good sense of humor, so I've been amusing myself (as well as those in the immediate vicinity) by doing stuff like this:
and this:
I can't help it. I started doing it for fun, and now I can't stop. It's like an affliction. Addiction? I just whip dh out, stand him up there on the table, and snap all the pictures I can during the meal. I've become obsessed with pretending that he's there. Momma condones it, and the wait staff at various restaurants sprinkled around Buffalo and outlying areas think it is hilarious. The only way I would have a better time is if he were ACTUALLY there. I think I've kind of gone nuts, but rest assured that I was inspired by those Buddy Lee commercials. And if you've seen it on TV, it's just not that weird when you see it in real life, n'est-ce pas? I for one, could never speak french because of all those damn letters they hide in there, but I'll try anything twice. Especially if it's a drink.
I must away to the workout place. I'm starting to feel all those Red Lobster Ultimate Feasts.