And then I didn't say one single word about rehab for two whole weeks straight, because I suck. I'm getting to it, I swear.
Fact you may not know about me: I'm an athiest with something of a thing for churches. So, naturally, this happened while I was in Montreal...this being proof that I will never be a real Canadian like some people because I made the mistake of calling it the Basilique Notre-Dame de Montréal and not, OOOO! The place where Celine Dion got married!
And then I had some Canadian meat and then I came home.
And between then and now I haven't been able to figure out how to talk about everything that has happened, and everything that hasn't, so instead I've been talking about other things in other places.
Or like the fact that my 12 year old can make onion rings and so I will be keeping him chained to the radiator forever.
Or that I can write a post about eating vegetables and find a correlation to skanky cheerleaders. Which, when I write it out like that, isn't all that impressive. Shit.
Or that I'm going to BlogHer Food for the first time ever and I'm kind of totally excited about it and stuff.
And eventually, I'm going to get to the rest.