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You may or may not think it's as pink-tickling as I do (which is difficult for me to imagine) but I can't help myself.
- Thanksgiving was fantastic. Catching both sets of parents and seeing a plethora of siblings/their offspring never fails to make me gleeful. I loved every bit of my first Reynolds Thanksgiving. Especially that one time when Harry and I were making jalapeno poppers for our appetizer, and after I’d spent a good hour handling vinegar-soaked jalapenos with my bare hands, I realized my left hand felt like it was intensely burning. Thank goodness for my medical advisors (Shelly/Mac/Maggie) who told me that to relieve an acidic burn, you soak it in milk. So. Eating Thanksgiving dinner this year was a one-handed act for me whilst my simmering fingers took a bath in a bowl of Las Vegas’ finest 2%. Logging that memory away for future chuckling.
- My job is a wonderful thing because I can play music at my desk, so long as it doesn’t bug anyone. So I happily set about creating a Christmas station on Pandora and I realized… no matter how much you specify what music you like on Pandora, there’s still a lot of Christmas music that is LOUSY out there. Christmas in Kilarney? What?
- My job is a curious thing because I came back to work after my break and had 60 emails in my work inbox. 4 of them actually applied to me. Ah, the “Cc:” function. Why are people always so trigger happy with that thing?
- I told Harry I would decorate our apartment for Christmas on a $10 budget. Then I wondered why I said that. We will see how this turns out.
- I never thought I could benefit from the office coffee machine. And what a naïve girl I was. It turns out there’s a little spout that can create foamy steamed milk for your foamy hot chocolate pleasure. Plus, some blessed soul purchase almond flavoring syrup. Here I had brought fat-free-no-sugar-added cocoa mix (to counterbalance the ice cream I eat every night) expecting a mediocre treat during the day. Let’s just say that my afternoon hot chocolate pick-me-up today was ten times nicer than I thought it would be (and considerably more saccharine. Yet… I’m not giving up the ice cream).
- I, the girl who only knows how to run and ride a stationary bike, played basketball and volleyball over Thanksgiving. Usually sports that involve a ball intimidate—no, frighten me. But, contrary to what anyone may tell you, I’m not half bad. I’m more like 75% bad. But I’m 25% good, and that was enough for me to have a great time!
- I tried to resist. But I had to post it.My father-in-law’s most righteous Thanksgiving rap, Dan beat-boxing on back up.
Quite possibly the best Thanksgiving poem this year next to Harry's Michael Jackson reference and Coulter and Ned's thug turkey.
- Thanksgiving does inspire gratitude.
I am grateful for
I have a hard time imagining my life being enjoyable without him in it.
The End.
(Yes, this picture does a better job of showcasing my ability to look like a camel, but he's in it.)
I think it was Plato who once said, "Family is the shiz."
Yes, Plato, it is.
Happy 118 days of marriage!
You've got to be cruel to be kind.
Meanwhile the hot sauce simmered away on the stove. Soon the two met in a fiery red fury.
They were hot, juicy, crispy, savory, and yes, inspiring. My heart has been humbled. I have seen the light, everyone! And it's the color of HOT WINGS!
Oh, and Harry thought they were spot on too...