Thursday morning the IT department had two Vegas bets running on my boss. The first was the time he would arrive (I said later than 10:15am, but he arrived at 9:58am) and what his first word would be (I said “fantastic!” but his real first word was “mornin’!”). Apparently I shouldn’t be taken to Vegas right now.

I have recently learned that Ripley does the silent but deadly farts, which means that the one time where Dawg and I thought we heard Ripley fart — yah, she totally ripped one. We don’t call her Rips for nothin’!

Saturday I’m supposed to get my German on with Dawg and his parents for his dad’s birthday. There’ll be some sausage eatin’ but I’ll probably chicken out and get the pork tenderloin. (*snort*)

I’m missin’ my mom and stepdad a lot right for no apparent reason. I hope they come to NYC soon when it’s warmer.

I almost hurled on the train because of my Triangles book. That book makes me seriously nauseous. I’m not sure how much more I can take of it without some spearmint gum and a soda.

Lately the FDA has listed so many recalls on peanut products I can’t even count that high, and yet there was still a woman on the train openly eating trail mix with peanuts. I’m glad to see she’s defying the salmonella odds, but I did wonder if there were any people with peanut allergies in the general vicinity.

It tickles me when Dawg is at work and can’t tell me he loves me because, you know, he’s on duty and stuff, so instead he whisper-asks if I love him. (Yes I do, with all my heart.)

Lil’ M had his surgery and came out of it like a champ. Yaaaaaaay!

Apostrophe accomplished.