tobermory's Diaryland Diary

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Catching up

OK - time to get back on the wagon. Life has been to amusing lately not to share - I'm at my best when I�m snarky and recently there�s been much to snark about. Well, since I last made a feeble attempt to make semi-regular entries I�ve:

Gone to Prague, Munich, New York, and El Paso

Raised my archery high score to a 246

Had a birthday

Seen Kill Hannah a couple more times

And, much more that I�m forgetting. If I remember anything earth-shattering I�ll be sure to post about it.

Actually, today is my birthday. And how are you spending it you might ask? It�ll be just swell. My supernice husband is driving me to Springfield so that I will be there tomorrow for the meeting of the uber-exciting state regulatory board that I sit on. I�m probably going to have a not-so-fine meal at Cracker Barrel on the way down. Sorry if you think the CB is fine cuisine, but me? Not so much. I�d prefer somewhere with a wine list, entrees without cutesy names and no gift shop selling countrified crap. Why yes, I am a snob, thank you very much � it�s my lot in life, my cross to bear. At least we get a romantic evening at a Mariott Courtyard on the State. Serves then right for taking away the per diem that we used to get paid. I�d prefer a swanky suite somewhere, but it could be worse � at least we get a king bed and we don�t have to share with the cats. Best of all, I do believe that tomorrow night after the meeting is over and we�re safely back in the big city I�ll get a birthday dinner that meets or exceeds all my requirements.

In other news, I think I�m over the food poisoning. If you live in or have a chance to visit Chicago, may I recommend that you do NOT eat at the Raw Bar. And, I especially recommend that you do NOT eat the Blue Crab Fingers. I�m such a boob. I was pretty sure when I was eating them that they were bad, and that feeling was confirmed seven hours later when it was like puking up a bait shop. I continued to have the queasys all weekend, and considering that I was in El Paso it was all rather unpleasant. When you�re having digestive distress all you really want is the comfort of your own bathroom � and to not be more than 15 feet away from it. Further proof that I�m a boob � everytime I started to feel better I�d eat something � and not something easy to digest like toast. No, I had to order things like flautas in Juarez. Bad idea. I finally wised up and on Saturday night I had a baked potato but by then it was too late. There was some sort of bizarre chemical reaction and I bloated up like a Macy�s Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon. That�s right � I was Underdog. Or maybe Hello Kitty � at least she�s cute. My God � I made noises that night that my sainted husband has never heard me make before. Needless to say he thought this was hilarious. What is it with men and fart jokes? But now after two days of toast, broth and yogurt I think I�m ready for a semi-real meal. If you consider Cracker Barrel real.

�Till next time.

1:49 p.m. - 2004-02-24

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