All things must come to an end

We had a great weekend. Two lovely dinners out: one with Mike’s parents at Roberts, the restaurant where his brother and his wife had their wedding reception, and one with my family at Brio. Couldn’t have asked for more scrumptious pasta in one weekend. But alas, Monday morning, that spiteful bitch, had to come show her ugly mug.

I went to the dentist to get my bite plate first thing this morning. Not so bad, other than it took until noon rather than until ten AM, as estimated. I do sound like Donald Duck if I have to speak; I have to wear it 24 hours a day for a week to get used to it, except 20 minute eating intervals. No way I can communicate at work like that, but I’ll try to wear it as much as is practical. Hopefully the dentist won’t actually be able to tell that I can’t wear it that much and make me do it for another week!

Work has been rather soul-sucking today. Two batches, neither one turning out to be a good repetition of the particle size I got, apparently by divine intervention, last time. I just can’t get it. It’s really irking me. I’m easily irked, in general, but this particular thorn in my side makes me want to stick my finger in my eye. I think it’s the fact that I actually care that I didn’t nail it, more than the lack of success itself. This paragraph isn’t going anywhere good; let’s just let it die right here.

My mom’s birthday is Wednesday. She got me another place setting of our formal china for my birthday, so I want to have her and my dad up and make some fancy schmancy foodstuffs to go on the hoity-toity dishes. Mike is in charge of the meat, fittingly, and I’ll have to figure out what we should have for dessert. Cheesecake needs to go to the back of the line for a while. My dad’s mildly allergic to chocolate, so…something fruity? It’s been too long since I’ve gone through my cookbooks for untried recipes. That’s the best thing about parents (one of them, anyhow). I don’t mind trying something new out on them. They’ll tell me if they don’t like it, but they also won’t mind if I use them as guinea pigs. Oink.

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5 thoughts on “All things must come to an end

  1. Bazarov says:

    Pudding’s always good. Tapeoka? However you spell it, it’s good. Or you could go with banana pudding, coffe, and some Drambuie.

  2. AmeDame says:

    That sounds gooooood! I didn’t get any coffee today [head hurts]. The real challenge is finding a day my mom and I are both off to celebrate.

  3. suntzusays says:

    Just so long as the dentist doesn’t have your blog page yet…that could be rather annoying. I believe it’s tapioca by the by, but it really doesn’t matter how the letters are arranged, just so long as it tastes as it does.

  4. AmeDame says:

    I think it’d be hilarious if my dentist found this blog! I think he’s a neocon. I heard something about Bible study; he started rambling about having respect for science but having higher regard for something else, that science was constantly proving itself wrong. I didn’t say a word…I don’t even want to know if I have an intelligent design-er working on my teeth. Don’t even want to know…too scary!

  5. suntzusays says:

    You could always ask about thermodynamics. That’s a fun one for the non-simian brain crowd to rant on. If they’re going to refuse their common ancestry existing, then they’ll have to find something else grey to put in between their ears.

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