Year Twenty Nine

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Everyday, Ordinaire

This, is what March looked like.


Mark's birthday dinner. 

Lasagna, Salad, Garlic Bread and Gumbo. 


Tales of getting dressed at the gym -- there was a stain on the front of my turtleneck, so I wore it backwards. Amid stares. No, it was anything but comfortable.  My life.  


Burn 1000. Similar to my beloved Shred 415.


Going away party replete with pinatas and tiny sombreros -- viva la Mexico!


Mini Chicken Parmesans. So good they made me dance. 



New kitchen rules


Banana Breakfast Cookies.  LEGIT. 


Dear Jennifer, send more laaaaava cake.


Chicken Lasagna Rolls Ups. Now that, was using my refrigerator contents like a champ.


Flu is not to be played with.  The fancy paper outfit, however, warrants a selfie. Pay nary a mnid to my hair, having two family members concurrently ill is no joke and the struggle was REAL. 


Bright lights. 


Froyo Game.



Inaugural use of my Christmas gift. It was everything I'd dreamt of, and more.  So much so I had to call the gift giver and thank them again profusely. As if my audible screams and jumping for glee on Christmas weren't enough.


Post long run = collapse on nearest surface. 

One day, we'll complete the master bedroom. Perhaps I could cut the tag of the doorstep and put the linens on the bed as a first step. Maybe. 


Day drinking. 


Fame. 

Ginger and I will be taking autographs, anytime. I really need to write them and inquire if we were their inspiration and where our royalties are. 

And if royalties count as free shots, we'll take those as well. 


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